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THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 


"Ah,  but  3'ou  will  not  scold  me?"  she  begged.      "It  is  the 
storm    which    terrifies    me."      Frontispiece.      See   page    135. 


THE  GREAT 
IMPERSONATION 

BY 
E.   PHILLIPS   OPPENHEIM 


WITH    ILLUSTRATIONS    BY 

NANA    FRENCH    BICKFORD 


BOSTON 
LITTLE,  BROWN,  &  COMPANY 

1920 


Copyright,  1920, 
By  Little,  Brown,  and  Company 

All  rights  reserved 


Published  January,  1920 

Reprinted.  January.  1920  {three  times) 

Reprinted,  February,  1920 


LIST   OF   ILLUSTRATIONS 


"  Ah,  but  you  will  not  scold  me?  "  she  begged. 

"  It  is  the  storm  which  terrifies  me  "  Frontispiece 

"  To-night  I  break  what  has  become  a  rule  with 
me.  I  shall  drink  to  the  new  things  that 
may  yet  come  to  both  of  us  "  .  .      Page   18 

He  swimg  around  to  find  Seaman  standing  upon 

the    threshold "182 

Into  the  open  there  came  a  dark  shape,  the  irreg- 
ularity of  its  movements  swiftly  explained         "     303 


2037536 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 


CHAPTER  I 

The  trouble  from  which  great  events  were  to 
come  began  when  Everard  Domine\s  who  had  been 
fighting  his  way  through  the  scrub  for  the  last 
three  quarters  of  an  hour  towards  those  thin,  spiral 
M'isps  of  smoke,  urged  his  pony  to  a  last  despairing 
effort  and  came  crashing  through  the  great  oleander 
shrub  to  pitch  forward  on  his  head  in  the  little  clear- 
ing. It  developed  the  next  morning,  when  he  found 
liimself  for  the  first  time  for  many  months  on  a 
truckle  bed,  between  linen  sheets,  with  a  cool,  bamboo- 
twisted  roof  between  him  and  the  relentless  sun.  He 
raised  himself  a  little  in  the  bed. 

"  Where  the  mischief  am  I.''  "  he  demanded. 

A  black  boy,  seated  cross-legged  in  the  entrance 
of  the  banda,  rose  to  his  feet,  mumbled  something 
and  disappeared.  In  a  few  moments  the  tall,  slim 
figure  of  a  European,  in  spotless  white  riding  clothes, 
stooped  down  and  came  over  to  Dominey's  side. 

"You  are  better.^' "  he  enquired  politely. 

"  Yes,  I  am,"  was  the  somewhat  brusque  rejoinder. 
"  Where  the  mischief  am  I,  and  who  are  you .''  " 

The  newcomer's  manner  stiffened.  He  was  a  per- 
son of  dignified  carriage,  and  his  tone  conve^'ed  some 
measure  of  rebuke. 


2  THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

"  You  are  within  half  a  mile  of  the  Irivvarri  River, 
if  3"ou  know  where  that  is,"  he  replied, — "  about 
seventj-two  miles  southeast  of  the  Darawaga  Settle- 
ment." 

"  The  devil !     Then  I  am  in  German  East  Africa  ?  " 

"  Without  a  doubt." 

"And  3"ou  are  German?" 

"  I  have  that  honour." 

Dominey  whistled  softly. 

"  Awfully  sorry  to  have  intruded,"  he  said.  "  I 
left  Marlinstein  two  and  a  half  months  ago,  with 
twenty  boys  and  plenty  of  stores.  We  were  doing 
a  big  trek  after  lions.  I  took  some  new  Askaris  in 
and  they  made  trouble, —  looted  the  stores  one  night 
and  there  was  the  devil  to  pay.  I  was  obliged  to 
shoot  one  or  two,  and  the  rest  deserted.  They  took 
my  compass,  damn  them,  and  I'm  nearly  a  hundred 
miles  out  of  my  bearings.  You  couldn't  give  me  a 
drink,  could  you?  " 

"  With  pleasure,  if  the  doctor  approves,"  was  the 
courteous  answer.     "  Here,  Jan  !  " 

The  boy  sprang  up,  listened  to  a  word  or  two 
of  brief  command  in  his  own  language,  and  disap- 
peared through  the  hanging  grass  which  led  into 
another  hut.  The  two  men  exchanged  glances  of 
rather  more  than  ordinary  interest.  Then  Dominey 
laughed. 

"  I  know  what  you're  thinking,"  he  said.  "  It  gave 
me  quite  a  start  when  3"ou  came  in.  We're  devil- 
ishly alike,  aren't  we  ?  " 

"  There  is  a  very  strong  likeness  between  us,"  the 
other  admitted. 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION  3 

Dominey  leaned  his  head  upon  his  hand  and  stud- 
ied his  host.  The  likeness  was  clear  enough,  al- 
though the  advantage  was  all  in  favour  of  the  man 
who  stood  by  the  side  of  the  camp  bedstead  with 
folded  arms.  Everard  Dominey,  for  the  first  twenty- 
six  years  of  his  life,  had  lived  as  an  ordinary  young 
Englishman  of  his  position, —  Eton,  Oxford,  a  few 
years  in  the  Army,  a  few  years  about  town,  during 
which  he  had  succeeded  in  making  a  still  more  hope- 
less muddle  of  his  already  encumbered  estates :  a 
few  months  of  tragedy,  and  then  a  blank.  After- 
wards ten  years  —  at  first  in  the  cities,  then  in  the 
dark  places  of  Africa  —  years  of  which  no  man 
knew  anything.  The  Everard  Dominey  of  ten  years 
ago  had  been,  without  a  doubt,  good-looking.  The 
finely  shaped  features  remained,  but  the  eyes  had 
lost  their  lustre,  his  figure  its  elasticity,  his  mouth 
its  firmness.  He  had  the  look  of  a  man  run  pre- 
maturely to  seed,  wasted  by  fevers  and  dissipation. 
Not  so  his  present  companion.  His  features  were 
as  finely  shaped,  cast  in  an  even  stronger  though 
similar  mould.  His  eyes  were  bright  and  full  of 
fire,  his  mouth  and  chin  firm,  bespeaking  a  man  of 
deeds,  his  tall  figure  lithe  and  supple.  He  had  the 
air  of  being  in  perfect  health,  in  perfect  mental  and 
physical  condition,  a  man  who  lived  with  dignity  and 
some  measure  of  content,  notwithstanding  the  slight 
gravity  of  his  expression. 

"  Yes,"  the  Englishman  muttered,  "  there's  no 
doubt  about  the  likeness,  though  I  suppose  I  should 
look  more  like  you  than  I  do  if  I'd  taken  care  of 
myself.     But  I  haven't.      That's  the  devil  of  it.     I've 


4  THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

gone  the  other  way ;  tried  to  chuck  my  life  away  and 
pretty  nearly  succeeded,  too." 

The  dried  grasses  were  thrust  on  one  side,  and 
the  doctor  entered, —  a  little  round  man,  also  clad 
in  immaculate  white,  with  yellow-gold  hair  and 
thick  spectacles.  His  countryman  pointed  towards 
the  bed. 

"  Will  you  examine  our  patient,  Herr  Doctor,  and 
prescribe  for  him  what  is  necessary.'^  He  has  asked 
for  drink.  Let  him  have  wine,  or  whatever  is  good 
for  him.  If  he  is  well  enough,  he  will  join  our  eve- 
ning meal.  I  present  my  excuses.  I  have  a  de- 
spatch to  write." 

The  man  on  the  couch  turned  his  head  and  watched 
the  departing  figure  with  a  shade  of  envy  in  his 
eyes. 

"What  is  my  preserver's  name.^  "  he  asked  the 
doctor. 

The  latter  looked  as  though  the  question  were  ir- 
reverent. 

"  It  is  His  Excellency  the  Major-General  Baron 
Leopold  von  Ragastein." 

"  All  that !  "  Dominey  muttered.  "  Is  he  the  Gov- 
ernor, or  something  of  that  sort.''  " 

"  He  is  Military  Commandant  of  the  Colony,"  the 
doctor  replied.  "  He  has  also  a  special  mission 
here." 

"  Damned  fine-looking  fellow  for  a  German,"  Dom- 
iney remarked,  with  unthinking  insolence. 

The  doctor  was  unmoved.  He  was  feeling  his  pa- 
tient's pulse.  He  concluded  his  examination  a  few 
minutes  later, 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION  5 

"You  have  drunk  much  whisky  lately,  so?"  he 
asked. 

"  I  don't  know  what  the  devil  it's  got  to  do  with 
you,"  was  the  curt  reply,  "  but  I  drink  whisky 
whenever  I  can  get  it.  Who  wouldn't  in  this  pesti- 
lential climate !  " 

The  doctor  shook  his  head. 

"  The  climate  is  good  as  he  is  treated,"  he  de- 
clared, "  His  Excellency  drinks  nothing  but  light 
wine  and  seltzer  water.  He  has  been  here  for  five 
years,  not  only  here  but  in  the  swamps,  and  he  has 
not  been  ill  one  day." 

"  Well,  I  have  been  at  death's  door  a  dozen  times," 
the  Englishman  rejoined  a  little  recklessly,  "  and 
I  don't  much  mind  when  I  hand  in  my  checks,  but 
until  that  time  comes  I  shall  drink  whisky  whenever 
I  can  get  it." 

"  The  cook  is  preparing  you  some  luncheon,"  the 
doctor  announced,  "  which  it  will  do  you  good  to 
eat.  I  cannot  give  you  whisky  at  this  moment,  but 
you  can  have  some  hock  and  seltzer  with  bay  leaves." 

"  Send  it  along,"  was  the  enthusiastic  reply. 
"  What  a  constitution  I  must  h-ave,  doctor !  The 
smell  of  that  cooking  outside  is  making  me  raven- 
ous." 

"  Your  constitution  is  still  sound  if  you  would 
onl}'  respect  it,"  was  the  comforting  assurance. 

"Anything  been  heard  of  the  rest  of  my  party  .f*  " 
Dominey  enquired. 

"  Some  bodies  of  Askaris  have  been  washed  up 
from  the  river,"  the  doctor  informed  him,  "  and  two 
of  3'our  ponies  have  been  eaten  by  lions.     You  will 


6  THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

excuse.  I  have  the  wounds  of  a  native  to  dress,  who 
was  bitten  last  night  by  a  jaguar." 

The  traveller,  left  alone,  lay  still  in  the  hut,  and 
his  thoughts  wandered  backwards.  He  looked  out 
over  the  bare,  scrubby  stretch  of  land  Avhich  had 
been  cleared  for  this  encampment  to  the  mass  of 
bush  and  flowering  shrubs  beyond,  mysterious  and 
impenetrable  save  for  that  rough  elephant  track 
along  which  he  had  travelled;  to  the  broad-bosomed 
river,  blue  as  the  sky  above,  and  to  the  mountains 
fading  into  mist  be3'ond.  The  face  of  his  host  had 
carried  him  back  into  the  past.  Puzzled  reminis- 
cence tugged  at  the  strings  of  memory.  It  came 
to  him  later  on  at  dinner  time,  when  they  three,  the 
Commandant,  the  doctor  and  himself,  sat  at  a  little 
table  arranged  just  outside  the  hut,  that  they  might 
catch  the  faint  breeze  from  the  mountains,  herald 
of  the  swift-falling  darkness.  Native  servants  beat 
the  air  around  them  with  bamboo  fans  to  keep  off 
the  insects,  and  the  air  was  faint  almost  to  noxious- 
ness with  the  perfume  of  some  sickly,  exotic  shrub. 

"  Wh}",  you're  Devinter !  "  he  exclaimed  suddenly, 
— "  Sigismund  Devinter !  You  were  at  Eton  with 
me  —  Horrock's  House  —  semi-final  in  the  racquets." 

"  And  Magdalen  afterwards,  number  five  in  the 
boat." 

"  And  why  the  devil  did  the  doctor  here  tell  me 
that  your  name  was  Von  Ragastein?  " 

"  Because  it  happens  to  be  the  truth,"  was  the 
somewhat  measured  reply.  "  Devinter  is  my  family 
name,  and  the  one  by  which  I  was  known  when  in 
England.     When  I  succeeded  to  the  barony  and  es- 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION  7 

tates  at  my  uncle's  death,  however,  I  was  compelled 
to  also  take  the  title." 

"  Well,  it's  a  small  world !  "  Dominey  exclaimed. 
"  What  brought  you  out  here  really  —  lions  or  ele- 
phants ?  " 

"  Neither." 

"  You  mean  to  say  that  you've  taken  up  this  sort 
of  political  business  just  for  its  own  sake,  not  for 
sport.''  " 

"  Entirely  so.  I  do  not  use  a  sporting  rifle  once 
a  month,  except  for  necessity.  I  came  to  Africa  for 
different  reasons." 

Dominey  drank  deep  of  his  hock  and  seltzer  and 
leaned  back,  watching  the  fireflies  rise  above  the  tall- 
bladed  grass,  above  the  stumpy  clumps  of  shrub,  and 
hang  like  miniature  stars  in  the  clear,  violet  air, 

"  What  a  world !  "  he  soliloquised.  "  Siggy  De- 
vinter,  Baron  von  Ragastein,  out  here,  slaving  for 
God  knows  what,  drilling  niggers  to  fight  God  knows 
whom,  a  political  machine,  I  suppose,  future  Gov- 
ernor-General of  German  Africa,  eh.''  You  were  al- 
w-ays  proud  of  your  country,  Devinter." 

"  My  country  is  a  country  to  be  proud  of,"  was 
the  solemn  reply. 

"  Well,  you're  in  earnest,  anyhow,"  Dom.ine}'  con- 
tinued, "  in  earnest  about  something.  And  I  —  w^ell, 
it's  finished  with  me.  It  would  have  been  finished 
last  night  if  I  hadn't  seen  the  smoke  from  3'our 
fires,  and  I  don't  much  care  —  that's  the  trouble. 
I  go  blundering  on.  I  suppose  the  end  will  come 
somehow,  sometime. —  Can  I  have  some  rum  or 
whisky,  Devinter  —  I  mean  Von  Ragastein  —  Your 


8  THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

Excellency  —  or  whatever  I  ought  to  say?  You  see 
those  wreaths  of  mist  down  by  the  river?  They'll 
mean  malaria  for  me  unless  I  have  spirits." 

"  I  have  something  better  than  either,"  Von  Ra- 
gastein  replied.  "  You  shall  give  me  your  opinion 
of  this." 

The  orderly  who  stood  behind  his  master's  chair, 
received  a  whispered  order,  disappeared  into  the  com- 
missariat hut  and  came  back  presently  with  a  bottle 
at  the  sight  of  which  the  Englishman  gasped. 

"  Napoleon  !  "  he  exclaimed. 

"  Just  a  few  bottles  I  had  sent  to  me,"  his  host 
explained.  "  I  am  delighted  to  offer  it  to  some  one 
who  will  appreciate  it." 

"  By  Jove,  there's  no  mistake  about  that !  "  Dom- 
iney  declared,  rolling  it  around  in  his  glass.  "  What 
a  world !  I  hadn't  eaten  for  thirty  hours  when 
I  rolled  up  here  last  night,  and  drunk  nothing  but 
filthy  water  for  days.  To-night,  fricassee  of  chicken, 
n^hite  bread,  cabinet  hock  and  Napoleon  brandy. 
And  to-morrow  again  —  well,  who  knows?  When  do 
you  move  on.  Von  Ragastein?  " 

"  Not  for  several  days." 

"  What  the  mischief  do  you  find  to  do  so  far  from 
headquarters,  if  j'ou  don't  shoot  lions  or  elephants?  " 
his  guest  asked  curiously. 

"  If  3'ou  really  wish  to  know,"  Von  Ragastein  re- 
plied, "  I  am  annoying  your  political  agents  im- 
mensely by  moving  from  place  to  place,  collecting 
natives  for  drill." 

"  But  what  do  you  want  to  drill  them  for?  "  Dom- 
iney  persisted.     "  I  heard  some  time  ago  that  you 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION  9 

have  four  times  as  many  natives  under  arms  as  wc 
have.  You  don't  want  an  army  here.  You're  not 
likely  to  quarrel  with  us  or  the  Portuguese." 

"  It  is  our  custom,"  Von  Ragastein  declared  a 
little  didactically,  "  in  Germany  and  wherever  we 
Germans  go,  to  be  prepared  not  only  for  what  is 
likely  to  happen  but  for  what  might  possibly  hap- 
pen." 

"  A  war  in  mj  younger  da3's,  when  I  was  in  the 
Army,"  Dominey  mused,  "  might  have  made  a  man 
of  me." 

"Surely  you  had  j^our  chance  out  here?" 
Dominey  shook  his  head. 

"  My  battalion  never  left  the  country,"  he  said. 
''  We  were  shut  up  in  Ireland  all  the  time.  That 
WSLS  the  reason  I  chucked  the  army  when  I  was  really 
only  a  boy." 

Later  on  they  dragged  their  chairs  a  little  farther 
out  into  the  darkness,  smoking  cigars  and  drinking 
some  rather  wonderful  coffee.  The  doctor  had  gone 
off  to  see  a  patient,  and  Von  Ragastein  was  thought- 
ful. Their  guest,  on  the  other  hand,  continued  to 
be  reminiscently  discursive. 

"  Our  meeting,"  he  observed,  lazily  stretching  out 
his  hand  for  his  glass,  "  should  be  full  of  interest 
to  the  psj'chologist.  Here  we  arc,  brought  together 
by  some  miraculous  chance  to  spend  one  night  of 
our  lives  in  an  African  jungle,  two  human  beings  of 
the  same  age,  brought  up  together  thousands  of 
miles  away,  jogging  on  towards  the  eternal  blackness 
along  lines  as  far  apart  as  the  mind  can  conceive." 
"  Your  eyes  are  fixed,"  Von  Ragastein  murmured, 


ic  THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

"  uport  that  very  blackness  behind  which  the  sun  will 
rise  at  dawn.  You  will  see  it  come  up  from  behind 
the  mountains  in  that  precise  spot,  like  a  new  and 
blazing  world." 

"  Don't  put  me  off  with  allegories,"  his  companion 
objected  petulantly.  "  The  eternal  blackness  exists 
surely  enough,  even  if  my  metaphor  is  faulty.  I 
am  disposed  to  be  philosophical.  Let  me  ramble  on. 
Here  am  I,  an  idler  in  my  boyhood,  a  harmless  pleas- 
ure-seeker in  my  youth  till  I  ran  up  against  tragedy, 
and  since  then  a  drifter,  a  drifter  with  a  slowly 
growing  vice,  lolling  through  life  with  no  definite 
purpose,  with  no  definite  hope  or  wish,  except,"  he 
went  on  a  little  drowsily,  "  that  I  think  I'd  like  to 
be  buried  somewhere  near  the  base  of  those  moun- 
tains, on  the  other  side  of  the  river,  from  behind 
which  you  say  the  sun  comes  up  every  morning  like 
a  world  on  fire." 

"  You  talk  foolishly,"  Von  Ragastein  protested. 
"  If  there  has  been  tragedy  in  your  life,  you  have 
time  to  get  over  it.  You  are  not  yet  forty  years 
old." 

"  Then  I  turn  and  consider  3'ou,"  Dominey  con- 
tinued, ignoring  altogether  his  friend's  remark. 
"  You  are  only  my  age,  and  3'ou  look  ten  years 
younger.  Your  muscles  are  hard,  your  e^^es  are  as 
bright  as  they  were  in  your  school  da3's.  You  carry 
yourself  like  a  man  with  a  purpose.  You  rise  at 
five  every  morning,  the  doctor  tells  me,  and  you  re- 
turn here,  worn  out,  at  dusk.  You  spend  every  mo- 
ment of  your  time  drilling  those  filthy  blacks.  When 
you  are  not  doing  that,  you  are  prospecting,  super- 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION  ii 

vising  reports  home,  trying  to  make  the  best  of  your 
few  millions  of  acres  of  fever  swamps.  The  doctor 
worships  you  but  who  else  knows?  What  do  you 
do  it  for,  my  friend?  " 

"  Because  it  is  my  duty,"  was  the  calm  reply. 

"  Duty !  But  why  can't  you  do  3'our  duty  in  your 
own  country,  and  live  a  man's  life,  and  hold  the  hands 
of  white  men,  and  look  into  the  ej^es  of  white  women?  " 

"  I  go  where  I  am  needed  most,"  Von  Ragastein 
answered.  "I  do  not  enjoy  drilling  natives,  I  do 
not  enjo}^  passing  the  3^ears  as  an  outcast  from  the 
ordinary  joys  of  human  life.  But  I  follow  my 
star." 

"  And  I  my  will-o'-the-wisp,"  Dominey  laughed 
mockingly.  "  The  whole  thing's  as  plain  as  a  pike- 
staff. You  may  be  a  dull  dog  —  3'ou  alwaj's  were 
on  the  serious  side  —  but  you're  a  man  of  prin- 
ciple.    I'm  a  slacker." 

"  The  difference  between  us,"  Von  Ragastein  pro- 
nounced, "  is  something  which  is  inculcated  into  the 
youth  of  our  countr\'  and  which  is  not  inculcated 
into  yours.  In  England,  with  a  little  money,  a  little 
birth,  3'our  young  men  expect  to  find  the  world  a 
playground  for  sport,  a  garden  for  loves.  The 
mightiest  German  noble  who  ever  lived  has  his  work 
to  do.  It  is  work  which  makes  fibre,  which  gives 
balance  to  life." 

Dominey  sighed.  His  cigar,  dearly  prized  though 
it  had  been,  was  cold  between  his  fingers.  In  that 
perfumed  darkness,  illuminated  only  by  the  faint 
gleam  of  the  shaded  tamp  behind,  his  face  seemed 
suddenly  white  and   old.     His   host  leaned  towards 


12  THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

him  and  spoke  for  the  first  time  in  the  kindlier  tones 
of  their  youth. 

"  You  hinted  at  tragedy,  my  friend.  You  are 
not  alone.  Tragedy  also  has  entered  my  life.  Per- 
haps if  things  had  been  otherwise,  I  should  have  found 
work  in  more  joyous  places,  but  sorrow  came  to  me, 
and  I  am  here." 

A  quick  flash  of  sympathy  lit  up  Dominey's  face. 

"  We  met  trouble  in  a  different  fashion,"  he 
groaned. 


1 


/ 


I 


CHAPTER  II 

Dominey  slept  till  late  the  following  morning,  and 
when  he  woke  at  last  from  a  long,  dreamless  slumber, 
he  was  conscious  of  a  curious  quietness  in  the  camp. 
The  doctor,  who  came  in  to  see  him,  explained  it 
immediately  after  his  morning  greeting. 

"  His  Excellency,"  he  announced,  "  has  received 
important  despatches  from  home.  He  has  gone  to 
meet  an  envoy  from  Dar-es-Salaam.  He  will  be 
away  for  three  daj^s.  He  desired  that  you  would 
remain  his  guest  until  his  return." 

"  Very  good  of  him,"  Dominey  murmured.  "  Is 
there  any  European  new^s?  " 

"  I  do  not  know,"  was  the  stolid  reply.  "  His  Ex- 
cellency desired  me  to  inform  3'ou  that  if  you  cared 
for  a  short  trip  along  the  banks  of  the  river,  south- 
ward, there  are  a  dozen  boys  left  and  some  ponies. 
There  are  plenty  of  lion,  and  rhino  may  be  met  with 
at  one  or  two  places  which  the  natives  know  of." 

Dominey  bathed  and  dressed,  sipped  his  excellent 
coffee,  and  lounged  about  the  place  in  uncertain  mood. 
He  unburdened  himself  to  the  doctor  as  they  drank 
tea  together  late  in  the  afternoon. 

"  I  am  not  in  the  least  keen  on  hunting,"  he  con- 
fessed, "  and  I  feel  like  a  horrible  sponge,  but  all  the 
same  I  have  a  queer  sort  of  feeling  that  I'd  like  to 
see  Von  Ragastein  again.     Your  silent  'chief  rather 


14         THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

fascinates  me,  Herr  Doctor.  He  is  a  man.  He  has 
something  which  I  have  lost." 

"  He  is  a  great  man,"  the  doctor  declared  en- 
thusiastically. "  What  he  sets  his  mind  to  do,  he 
does." 

"  I  suppose  I  might  have  been  like  that,"  Dominey 
sighed,  "  if  I  had  had  an  incentive.  Have  you  no- 
ticed the  likeness  between  us,  Herr  Doctor.''  " 

The  latter  nodded. 

"  I  noticed  it  from  the  first  moment  of  your  ar- 
rival," he  assented.  "  You  are  very  much  alike  yet 
very  different.  The  resemblance  must  have  been 
still  more  remarkable  in  your  youth.  Time  has  dealt 
with  your  features  according  to  your  deserts." 

"  Well,  you  needn't  rub  it  in,"  Dominey  protested 
irritably. 

"  I  am  rubbing  nothing  in,"  the  doctor  replied 
with  unruffled  calm.  "  I  speak  the  truth.  If  you 
had  been  possessed  of  the  same  moral  stamina  as  His 
Excellency,  you  might  have  preserved  your  health 
and  the  things  that  count.  You  might  have  been 
as  useful  to  your  country  as  he  is  to  his." 

"  I  suppose  I  am  pretty  rocky,  eh?  " 

"  Your  constitution  has  been  abused.  You  still, 
however,  have  much  vitality.  If  you  cared  to  exer- 
cise self-control  for  a  few  months,  you  would  be  a 
different  man. —     You  must  excuse.     I  have  work." 

Dominey  spent  three  restless  days.  Even  the  sight 
of  a  herd  of  elephants  in  the  river  and  that  strange, 
fierce  chorus  of  night  sounds,  as  beasts  of  prey  crept 
noiselessly  around  the  camp,  failed  to  move  him. 
For  the  moment  his  love  of  sport,  his  last  hold  upon 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION  15 

the  world  of  real  things,  seemed  dead.  What  did  it 
matter,  the  killing  of  an  animal  more  or  less?  His 
mind  was  fixed  uneasily  upon  the  past,  searching  al- 
ways for  something  which  he  failed  to  discover.  At 
dawn  he  watched  for  that  strangely  wonderful,  trans- 
forming birth  of  the  day,  and  at  night  he  sat  out- 
side the  banda,  waiting  till  the  mountains  on  the 
other  side  of  the  river  had  lost  shape  and  faded  into 
the  violet  darkness.  His  conversation  with  Von  Ra- 
gastein  had  unsettled  him.  Without  knowing  defi- 
nitely why,  he  wanted  him  back  again.  Memories 
that  had  long  since  ceased  to  torture  were  finding 
their  way  once  more  into  his  brain.  On  the  first  day 
he  had  striven  to  rid  himself  of  them  in  the  usual 
fashion. 

"Doctor,  you've  got  some  whisky,  haven't  you.''  " 
he  asked. 

The  doctor  nodded. 

"  There  is  a  case  somewhere  to  be  found,"  he  ad- 
mitted. "  His  Excellency  told  me  that  I  was  to  re- 
fuse you  nothing,  but  he  advises  3'ou  to  drink  only 
the  white  wine  until  his  return." 

"  He  really  left  that  message.''  " 

"  Precisely  as  I  have  delivered  it." 

The  desire  for  whisky  passed,  came  again  but  was 
beaten  back,  returned  in  the  night  so  that  he  sat 
up  with  the  sweat  pouring  down  his  face  and  his 
tongue  parched.  He  drank  lithia  water  instead. 
Late  in  the  afternoon  of  the  third  day.  Von  Ragastein 
rode  into  the  camp.  His  clothes  were  torn  and 
drenched  with  the  black  mud  of  the  swamps,  dust 
and  dirt  were  thick  upon  his  face.     His  pony  almost 


i6         THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

collapsed  as  he  swung  himself  off.  Nevertheless,  he 
paused  to  greet  his  guest  with  punctilious  courtesy, 
and  there  was  a  gleam  of  real  satisfaction  in  liis  eyes 
as  the  two  men  shook  hands. 

"  I  am  glad  that  you  are  still  here,"  he  said  heart- 
ily. "  Excuse  me  while  I  bathe  and  change.  We 
will  dine  a  little  earlier.  So  far  I  have  not  eaten  to- 
day." 

"A  long  trek.?"  Dominey  asked  curiously. 

"  I  have  trekked  far,"  was  the  quiet  reply. 

At  dinner  time.  Von  Ragastein  was  once  more  him- 
self, immaculate  in  white  duck,  with  clean  linen, 
shaved,  and  with  little  left  of  his  fatigue.  There 
was  something  different  in  his  manner,  however,  some 
change  which  puzzled  Dominey.  He  was  at  once 
more  attentive  to  his  guest,  yet  further  removed 
from  him  in  spirit  and  sympathy.  He  kept  the  con- 
versation with  curious  insistence  upon  incidents  of 
their  school  and  college  da^^s,  upon  the  subject  of 
Dominey's  friends  and  relations,  and  the  later  epi- 
sodes of  his  life.  Dominey  felt  himself  all  the  time 
encouraged  to  talk  about  his  earlier  life,  and  all  the 
time  he  was  conscious  that  for  some  reason  or  other 
his  host's  closest  and  most  minute  attention  was  be- 
ing given  to  his  slightest  word.  Champagne  had 
been  served  and  served  freely,  and  Dominey,  up  to 
the  very  gates  of  that  one  secret  chamber,  talked 
volubly  and  without  reserve.  After  the  meal  was 
over,  their  chairs  were  dragged  as  before  into  the 
open.  The  silent  orderly  produced  even  larger 
cigars,  and  Dominey  found  his  glass  filled  once  more 
with   the  wonderful   brandy.     The   doctor   had  left 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION  17 

them  to  visit  the  native  camp  nearly  a  quarter  of  a 
mile  away,  and  the  orderly  was  busy  inside,  clear- 
ing the  table.  Only  the  black  shapes  of  the  serv- 
ants were  dimly  visible  as  they  twirled  their  fans, — 
and  overhead  the  leaning  stars.  They  were 
alone. 

"  I've  been  talking  an  awful  lot  of  rot  about  my- 
self," Dominey  said.  "  Tell  me  a  little  about  your 
career  now  and  your  life  in  Germany  before  you  came 
out  here.''  " 

Von  Ragastein  made  no  immediate  reply,  and  a 
curious  silence  ebbed  and  flowed  between  the  two 
men.  Every  now  and  then  a  star  shot  across  the 
sky.  The  red  rim  of  the  moon  rose  a  little  higher 
from  behind  the  mountains.  The  bush  stillness,  al- 
ways the  most  mysterious  of  silences,  seemed  grad- 
ually to  become  charged  with  unvoiced  passion. 
Soon  the  animals  began  to  call  around  them,  creep- 
ing nearer  and  nearer  to  the  fire  which  burned  at 
the  end  of  the  open  space. 

"  My  friend,"  Von  Ragastein  said  at  last,  speak- 
ing with  the  air  of  a  man  who  has  spent  much  time 
in  deliberation,  "  you  speak  to  me  of  Germany,  of 
my  homeland.  Perhaps  you  have  guessed  that  it 
is  not  duty  alone  which  has  brought  me  here  to  these 
wild  places.     I,  too,  left  behind  me  a  traged3^" 

Dominey's  quick  impulse  of  sympathy  was  smoth- 
ered by  the  stem,  almost  harsh  repression  of  the 
other's  manner.  The  words  seemed  to  have  been 
torn  from  his  throat.  There  was  no  spark  of  ten- 
derness or  regret  in  his  set  face. 

"  Since  the  day  of  my  banishment,"  he  went  on, 


i8  THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

"  no  word  of  this  matter  has  passed  my  lips.  To- 
night it  is  not  weakness  which  assails  me,  but  a  de- 
sire to  yield  to  the  strange  arm  of  coincidence.  You 
and  I,  schoolmates  and  college  friends,  though  sons 
of  a  different  country,  meet  here  in  the  wilderness, 
each  with  the  iron  in  our  souls.  I  shall  tell  you  the 
thing  which  happened  to  me,  and  you  shall  speak  to 
me  of  your  own  curse." 

"  I  cannot !  "  Dominey  groaned. 

"  But  you  will,"  was  the  stern  reply.      "  Listen." 

An  hour  passed,  and  the  voices  of  the  two  men  had 
ceased.  The  howling  of  the  animals  had  lessened  with 
the  paling  of  the  fires,  and  a  slow,  melancholy  ripple 
of  breeze  was  passing  through  the  bush  and  lapping 
the  surface  of  the  river.  It  was  Von  Ragastein  who 
broke  through  what  might  almost  have  seemed  a 
trance.  He  rose  to  his  feet,  vanished  inside  the 
banda,  and  reappeared  a  moment  or  two  later  with 
two  tumblers.  One  he  set  down  in  the  space  pro- 
vided for  it  in  the  arm  of  his  guest's  chair. 

"  To-night  I  break  what  has  become  a  rule  with 
me,"  he  announced.  "  I  shall  drink  a  whisky  and 
soda.  I  shall  drink  to  the  new  things  that  may 
yet  come  to  both  of  us." 

"You  are  giving  up  your  work  here.^  "  Dominey 
asked  curiously. 

"  I  am  part  of  a  great  machine,"  was  the  some- 
what evasive  reply.  "  I  have  nothing  to  do  but 
obey." 

A  flicker  of  passion  distorted  Dominey's  face, 
flamed  for  a  moment  in  his  tone. 

"Are  you  content  to  live  and  die  like  this.^  "  he 


To-night  I  break  what  has  become  a  rule  with  me.     I  shall 
drink  to  the  new  things  that  may  yet  come  to  both  of  us." 
Pase  18. 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION  19 

demanded.  "  Don't  you  want  to  get  back  to  where 
a  different  sort  of  sun  will  warm  your  heart  and 
fill  your  pulses?  This  primitive  world  i?  in  its  way 
colossal,  but  it  isn't  human,  it  isn't  a  life  for  hu- 
mans. We  want  the  streets,  Von  Ragastein,  3'ou  and 
I.  We  want  the  tide  of  people  flowing  around  us, 
the  roar  of  wheels  and  the  hum  of  human  voices. 
Curse  these  animals !  If  I  live  in  this  countrj^  much 
longer,  I  shall  go  on  all  fours." 

"  You  3'ield  too  much  to  environment,"  his  com- 
panion observed.  "  In  the  life  of  the  cities  you  would 
be  a  sentimentalist." 

"  No  cit}^  nor  any  civilised  country  will  ever  claim 
me  again,"  Dominey  sighed.  "  I  should  never  have 
the  courage  to  face  what  might  come." 

Von  Ragastein  rose  to  his  feet.  The  dim  outline 
of  his  erect  form  was  in  a  way  majestic.  He  seemed 
to  tower  over  the  man  who  lounged  in  the  chair  be- 
low him. 

"  Finish  your  whisky  and  soda  to  our  next  meeting, 
friend  of  my  school  days,"  he  begged.  "  To-morrow, 
before  you  awake,  I  shall  be  gone." 

"So'soon.P" 

"  By  to-morrow  night,"  Von  Ragastein  replied, 
"  I  must  be  on  the  other  side  of  those  mountains. 
This  must  be  our  farewell." 

Dominey  was  querulous,  almost  pathetic.  He  had 
a  sudden  hatred  of  solitude. 

"  I  must  trek  westward  myself  directly,"  he  pro- 
tested, "  or  eastward,  or  northward  —  it  doesn't  so 
much  matter.      Can't  we  travel  together?  " 

Von  Ragastein  shook  his  head. 


20  THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

"  I  travel  officially,  and  I  must  travel  alone,"  he 
replied.  "  As  for  yourself,  they  will  be  breaking  up 
here  to-morrow,  but  they  will  lend  you  an  escort  and 
put  you  in  the  direction  3'ou  wish  to  take.  This, 
alas,  is  as  much  as  I  can  do  for  you.  For  us  it  must 
be  farewell." 

"  Well,  I  can't  force  myself  upon  you,"  Dominey 
said  a  little  wistfuHy.  "  It  seems  strange,  though, 
to  meet  right  out  here,  far  away  even  from  the  by- 
ways of  life,  just  to  shake  hands  and  pass  on.  I 
am  sick  to  death  of  niggers  and  animals." 

"  It  is  Fate,"  Von  Ragastein  decided.  "  Where  I 
go,  I  must  go  alone.  Farewell,  dear  friend !  We 
will  drink  the  toast  we  drank  our  last  night  in  your 
rooms  at  Magdalen.  That  Sanscrit  man  translated 
it  for  us:  'May  each  find  what  he  seeks!'  We 
must  follow  our  star." 

Dominey  lauglied  a  little  bitterly.  He  pointed  to 
a  light  glowing  fitfully  in  the  bush. 

"  My  will-o'-the-wisp,"  he  muttered  recklessly, 
"  leading  where  I  shall  follow^  —  into  the  swamps  !  " 

A  few  minutes  later  Dominey  threw  himself  upon 
his  couch,  curiously  and  unaccountably  drowsy. 
Von  Ragastein,  who  had  come  in  to  wish  him  good 
night,  stood  looking  down  at  him  for  several  mo- 
ments with  significant  intentness.  Then,  satisfied 
that  his  guest  really  slept,  he  turned  and  passed 
through  the  han^ng  curtain  of  dried  grasses  into  the 
next  banda,  where  the  doctor,  still  full}'  dressed,  was 
awaiting  him.  Thc^^  spoke  together  in  German  and 
with  lowered  voices.  Von  Ragastein  had  lost  some- 
thing of  his  imperturbability. 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION  21 

"  Everything  progresses  according  to  my  orders  ?  " 
he  demanded. 

"  Everything,  Excellency !  The  boys  are  being 
loaded,  and  a  runner  has  gone  on  to  Wadihuan  for 
ponies  to  be  prepared." 

"  They  know  that  I  wish  to  start  at  dawn?  " 

"  All  will  be  prepared.  Excellency." 

Von  Ragastein  laid  his  hand  upon  the  doctor's 
shoulder. 

"  Come  outside,  Schmidt,"  he  said.  "  I  have  some- 
thing to  tell  you  of  my  plans." 

The  two  men  seated  themselves  in  the  long,  wicker 
chairs,  the  doctor  in  an  attitude  of  strict  attention. 
Von  Ragastein  turned  his  head  and  listened.  From 
Domincy's  quarters  came  the  sound  of  deep  and  reg- 
ular breathing. 

"  I  have  formed  a  great  plan,  Schmidt,"  Von  Ra- 
gastein proceeded.  "  You  know  what  news  has  come 
to  me  from  Berlin?  " 

"  Your  Excellency  has  told  me  little,"  the  doctor 
reminded  him. 

"  The  Day  arrives,"  Von  Ragastein  pronounced, 
his  voice  shaking  with  deep  emotion.  He  paused  a 
moment  in  thought  and  continued,  "  the  time,  even 
the  month,  is  fixed.  I  am  recalled  from  here  to  take 
the  place  for  which  I  was  destined.  You  know  what 
that  place  is?  You  know  why  I  was  sent  to  an  Eng- 
lish public  school  and  college?  " 

"  I  can  guess." 

"  I  am  to  take  up  my  residence  in  England.  I 
am  to  have  a  special  mission.  I  am  to  find  a  place 
for  myself  there  as  an  Englishman.     The  means  are 


22  THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

left  to  my  ingenuity.  Listen,  Schmidt.  A  great 
idea  has  come  to  me." 

The  doctor  lit  a  cigar. 

"  I  listen,  Excellency." 

Von  Ragastein  rose  to  his  feet.  Not  content  with 
the  sound  of  that  regular  breathing,  he  made  his 
way  to  the  opening  of  the  banda  and  gazed  in  at 
Dominey's  slumbering  form.     Then  he  returned. 

"  It  is  something  which  you  do  not  wish  the  Eng- 
lishman to  hear?  "  the  doctor  asked. 

"  It  is." 

"  We  speak  in  German." 

"  Languages,"  was  the  cautious  reply,  "  happen 
to  be  that  man's  only  accomplishment.  He  can  speak 
German  as  fluently  as  you  or  I.  That,  however,  is  of 
no  consequence.  He  sleeps  and  he  will  continue  to 
sleep.  I  mixed  him  a  sleeping  draught  with  his 
whisky  and  soda." 

"  Ah  !  "  the  doctor  grunted. 

"  My  principal  need  in  England  is  an  identity," 
Von  Ragastein  pointed  out.  "  I  have  made  up  my 
mind.  I  shall  take  this  Englishman's.  I  shall  re- 
turn to  England  as  Sir  Everard  Dominey." 

"  So !  " 

"  There  is  a  remarkable  likeness  between  us,  and 
Dominey  has  not  seen  an  Englishman  who  knows  him 
for  eight  or  ten  years.  Any  school  or  college 
friends  whom  I  may  encounter  I  shall  be  able  to 
satisfy.  I  have  stayed  at  Dominey.  I  know  Dom- 
iney's relatives.  To-night  he  has  babbled  for  hours, 
telling  me  many  things  that  it  is  well  for  me  to 
know." 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION  23 

"What  about  his  near  relatives?" 

"  He  has  none  nearer  than  cousins." 

"No  wife?" 

Von  Ragastein  paused  and  turned  his  head.  The 
deep  breathing  inside  the  banda  had  certainly  ceased. 
He  rose  to  his  feet  and,  stealing  uneasily  to  the 
opening,  gazed  down  upon  his  guest's  outstretched 
form.  To  all  appearance,  Dominey  still  slept 
deeph'.  After  a  moment  or  two's  watch,  Von  Ra- 
gastein returned  to  his  place. 

"  Tlierein  lies  his  tragedy,"  he  confided,  drop- 
ping his  voice  a  little  lower.  "  She  is  insane  —  in- 
sane, it  seems,  through  a  shock  for  which  he  is  re- 
sponsible. She  might  have  been  the  only  stumbling 
block,  and  she  is  as  though  she  did  not  exist." 

"  It  is  a  great  scheme,"  the  doctor  murmured  en- 
thusiastically. 

"  It  is  a  wonderful  one !  That  great  and  unre- 
vealed  Power,  Schmidt,  which  watches  over  our  coun- 
try and  which  will  make  her  mistress  of  the  world, 
must  have  guided  this  man  to  us.  My  position  in 
England  will  be  unique.  As  Sir  Everard  Dominey 
I  shall  be  able  to  penetrate  into  the  inner  circles  of 
Societ}"  —  perhaps,  even,  of  political  life.  I  shall 
be  able,  if  necessary,  to  remain  in  England  even  after 
the  storm  bursts." 

"  Supposing,"  the  doctor  suggested,  "  this  man 
Dominey  should  return  to  England?  " 

Von  Ragastein  turned  his  head  and  looked  to;vards 
his  questioner. 

"  He  must  not,"  he  pronounced. 

"  So  !  "  the  doc  lor  murmured. 


24  THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

Late  in  the  afternoon  of  the  following  day,  Dom- 
inej,  with  a  couple  of  boys  for  escort  and  his  rifle 
slung  across  his  shoulder,  rode  into  the  bush  along 
the  way  he  had  come.  The  little  fat  doctor  stood 
and  watched  him,  waving  his  hat  until  he  was  out  of 
sight.     Then  he  called  to  the  orderly. 

"  Heinrich,"  he  said,  "  you  are  sure  that  the  Herr 
Englishman  has  the  whiskj-?  " 

"  The  water  bottles  are  filled  with  nothing  else, 
Herr  Doctor,"  the  man  replied. 

"  There  is  no  water  or  soda  water  in  the  pack.''  " 

"  Not  one  drop,  Herr  Doctor." 

"  How  much  food?  " 

"  One  day's  rations." 

"The  beef  is  salt.?" 

"  It  is  very  salt,  Herr  Doctor." 

"  And  the  compass?  " 

"  It  is  ten  degrees  wrong." 

"  The  boys  have  their  orders?  " 

"  They  understand  perfectly,  Herr  Doctor.  If 
the  Englishman  does  not  drink,  they  will  take  him 
at  midnight  to  where  His  Excellency  will  be  encamped 
at  the  bend  of  the  Blue  River." 

The  doctor  sighed.  He  was  not  at  heart  an  un- 
kindl3^  man. 

"  I  think,"  he  murmured,  "  it  will  be  better  for 
the  Englishman  that  he  drinks." 


CHAPTER  III 

Mr.  John  Lambert  INIangan  of  Lincoln's  Inn  gazed 
at  the  card  whicli  a  junior  clerk  had  just  presented 
in  blank  astonishment,  an  astonishment  which  be- 
came speedily  blended  with  dismay- 

"Good  God,  do  you  see  this,  Harrison?"  he  ex- 
claimed, passing  it  over  to  his  manager,  with  whom 
he  had  been  in  consultation.  "  Dominey  —  Sir 
Everard  Dominey  —  back  here  in  England  !  " 

The  head  clerk  glanced  at  the  narrow  piece  of 
pasteboard  and  sighed. 

"  I'm  afraid  you  will  find  him  rather  a  trouble- 
some client,  sir,"  he  remarked. 

His  employer  frowned.  "  Of  course  I  shall,"  he 
answered  testily.  "  There  isn't  an  extra  penny  to 
be  had  out  of  the  estates  —  you  know  that,  Harri- 
son. The  last  two  quarters'  allowance  which  we 
sent  to  Africa  came  out  of  the  timber.  Why  the 
mischief  didn't  he  stay  where  he  was  !  " 

"What  shall  I  tell  the  gentleman,  sir?"  the  boy 
enquired. 

"  Oh,  show  him  in ! "  Mr.  jMangan  directed  ill- 
tempcredly.  "  I  suppose  I  shall  have  to  see  him 
sooner  or  later.  I'll  finish  these  affidavits  after 
lunch,  Harrison." 

The  solicitor  composed  his  features  to  welcome  a 
client  who,  however  troublccoms  his  affairs  had  be- 


26         THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

come,  still  represented  a  family  who  had  been  val- 
ued patrons  of  the  firm  for  several  generations.  He 
was  prepared  to  greet  a  seedy-looking  and  degener- 
ate individual,  looking  older  than  his  years.  In- 
stead, he  found  himself  extending  his  hand  to  one 
of  the  best  turned  out  and  handsomest  men  who  had 
ever  crossed  the  threshold  of  his  not  very  inviting 
office.  For  a  moment  he  stared  at  his  visitor,  speech- 
less. Then  certain  points  of  familiarity  —  the  well- 
shaped  nose,  the  rather  deep-set  grey  eyes  —  pre- 
sented themselves.  The  surprise  enabled  him  to  in- 
fuse a  little  real  heartiness  into  his  welcome. 

"  My  dear  Sir  Everard !  "  he  exclaimed.  "  This 
is  a  most  unexpected  pleasure  —  most  unexpected ! 
Such  a  pity,  too,  that  we  only  posted  a  draft  for 
your  allowance  a  few  days  ago.  Dear  me  —  you'll 
forgive  my  saying  so  —  how  well  you  look !  " 

Dominey  smiled  as  he  accepted  an  easy  chair. 

"  Africa's  a  wonderful  country,  Mangan,"  he  re- 
marked, with  just  that  faint  note  of  patronage  in 
his  tone  which  took  his  listener  back  to  the  days  of 
his  present  client's  father. 

"  It  —  pardon  my  remarking  it  —  has  done  won- 
derful things  for  you,  Sir  Everard.  Let  me  see,  it 
must  be  eleven  years  since  we  met." 

Sir  Everard  tapped  the  toes  of  his  carefully  pol- 
ished brown  shoes  with  the  end  of  his  walking  stick. 

"  I  left  London,"  he  murmured  reminiscently,  "  in 
April,  nineteen  hundred  and  two.  Yes,  eleven  years, 
Mr.  Mangan.  It  seems  queer  to  find  myself  in  Lon- 
don again,  as  I  dare  say  you  can  understand." 

"  Precisely,"  the  law^yer  murmured.     "  I  was  just 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION  27 

wondering  —  I  think  that  last  remittance  we  sent  to 
you  could  be  stopped.  I  have  no  doubt  you  will 
be  glad  of  a  little  ready  money,"  he  added,  with  a 
confident  smile. 

"  Thanks,  I  don't  think  I  need  any  just  at  pres- 
ent," was  the  amazing  answer.  "  We'll  talk  about 
financial  affairs  a  little  later  on." 

Mr.  Mangan  metaphorically  pinched  himself.  He 
had  known  his  present  client  even  during  his  school 
days,  had  received  a  great  many  visits  from  him  at 
different  times,  and  could  not  remember  one  in  which 
the  question  of  finance  had  been  dismissed  in  so 
casual  a  manner. 

"  I  trust,"  he  observed,  chief!}'  for  the  sake  of  say- 
ing something,  "  that  you  are  thinking  of  settling 
down  here  for  a  time  now?  " 

"  I  have  finished  with  Africa,  if  that  is  what  you 
mean,"  was  the  somewhat  grave  reply.  "  As  to  set- 
tling down  here,  well,  that  depends  a  little  upon  what 
you  have  to  tell  me." 

The  lawyer  nodded. 

"  I  think,"  he  said,  "  that  you  may  make  yourself 
quite  easy  as  regards  the  matter  of  Roger  Unthank. 
Nothing  has  ever  been  heard  of  him  since  the  day 
you  left  England." 

"  His  —  body  has  not  been  found?  " 

"  Nor  any  trace  of  it." 

There  was  a  brief  silence.  The  lawj^er  looked  hard 
at  Dominey,  and  Dominey  searchingly  back  again  at 
the  lawyer. 

"And  Lady  Dominey?"  the  former  asked  at 
length. 


28  THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

"  Her  ladyship's  condition  is,  I  believe,  un- 
changed," was  the  somewhat  guarded  repl}'. 

"  If  the  circumstances  are  favourable,"  Dominey 
continued,  after  another  moment's  pause,  "  I  think  it 
very  likely  that  I  may  decide  to  settle  down  at  Dom- 
iney Hall." 

The  lawyer  appeared  doubtful. 

"  I  am  afraid,"  he  said,  "  you  will  be  very  disap- 
pointed with  the  condition  of  the  estate,  Sir  Everaii. 
As  I  have  repeatedly  told  you  in  our  correspond- 
ence, the  rent  roll,  after  deducting  your  settlement 
upon  Lady  Dominey,  has  at  no  time  reached  the 
interest  on  the  mortgages,  and  we  have  had  to  make 
up  the  difference  and  send  you  your  allowance  out 
of  the  proceeds  of  the  outlying  timber." 

"  That  is  a  pit}',"  Dominey  replied,  with  a  frown. 
"  I  ought,  perhaps,  to  have  taken  you  more  into  my 
confidence.  By  the  by,"  he  added,  "  when  —  er  — 
about  when  did  you  receive  my  last  letter?  " 

"  Your  last  letter.?  "  Mr.  Mangan  repeated.  "  We 
have  not  had  the  privilege  of  hearing  from  you.  Sir 
Everard,  for  over  four  years.  The  only  intimation 
we  had  that  our  paj^ments  had  reached  you  was  the 
exceedingly  prompt  debit  of  the  South  African  bank." 

"  I  have  certainl}'  been  to  blame,"  this  unexpected 
visitor  confessed.  "  On  the  other  hand,  I  have  been 
ver\'  much  absorbed.  If  3'OU  haven't  happened  to 
hear  any  South  African  gossip  latel}',  Mangan,  I 
suppose  it  will  be  a  surprise  to  you  to  hear  that  I 
have  been  making  a  good  deal  of  money." 

"Making  money?"  the  lawyer  gasped.  "You 
making  moncj'.  Sir  Everard?  " 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION  29 

"  I  thought  you'd  be  surprised,"  Dominey  observed 
coolly.  "  However,  that's  neither  here  nor  there. 
The  business  object  of  my  visit  to  3'ou  this  morn- 
ing is  to  ask  you  to  make  arrangements  as  quickly 
as  possible  for  paying  off  the  mortgages  on  the 
Dominey  estates." 

Mr.  Mangan  was  a  lawyer  of  the  new-fashioned 
school, —  Harrow  and  Cambridge,  the  Bath  Club, 
racquets  and  fives,  rather  than  gold  and  lawn  tennis. 
Instead  of  saying  "  God  bless  my  soul ! "  he  ex- 
claimed "  Great  Scott !  "  dropped  a  very  modern- 
looking  eyeglass  from  his  left  eye,  and  leaned  back 
in  his  chair  with  his  hands  in  his  pockets. 

"  I  have  had  three  or  four  3rears  of  good  luck," 
his  client  continued.  "  I  have  made  money  in  gold 
mines,  in  diamond  mines  and  in  land.  I  am  afraid 
that  if  I  had  stayed  out  another  year,  I  should  have 
descended  altogether  to  the  commonplace  and  come 
back  a  millionaire." 

"  My  heartiest  congratulations !  "  Mr.  Mangan 
found  breath  to  murmur.  "  You'll  forgive  my  being 
so  astonished,  but  3'ou  are  the  first  Dominey  I  ever 
knew  who  has  ever  made  a  penny  of  money  in  any 
sort  of  way,  and  from  what  I  remember  of  you  in 
England  —  I'm  sure  you'll  forgive  m}^  being  so  frank 
—  I  should  never  have  expected  3'ou  to  have  even 
attempted  such  a  thing." 

Domine}^  smiled  good-humouredly. 

"  Well,"  he  said,  "  if  you  enquire  at  the  United 
Bank  of  Africa,  3'ou  will  find  that  I  have  a  credit 
balance  there  of  something  over  a  hundred  thousand 
pounds.     Then  I  have  also  —  well,  let  us  say  a  trifle 


30         THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

more,  invested  in  first-class  mines.  Do  me  the  fa- 
vour of  lunching  with  me,  Mr.  Mangan,  and  although 
Africa  will  never  be  a  favourite  topic  of  conversation 
with  me,  I  will  tell  you  about  some  of  my  specula- 
tions." 

The  solicitor  groped  around  for  his  hat. 

"  I  will  send  the  boy  for  a  taxi,"  he  faltered. 

"  I  have  a  car  outside,"  this  astonishing  client  told 
him.  "  Before  we  leave,  could  you  instruct  your 
clerk  to  have  a  list  of  the  Dominey  mortgages  made 
out,  with  the  terminable  dates  and  redemption  val- 
ues? " 

"  I  will  leave  instructions,"  Mr.  Mangan  prom- 
ised. "  I  think  that  the  total  amount  is  under  eighty 
thousand  pounds." 

Dominey  sauntered  through  the  office,  an  object 
of  much  interest  to  the  little  staff  of  clerks.  The 
lawyer  joined  him  on  the  pavement  in  a  few 
minutes. 

"  Where  shall  we  lunch?  "  Dominey  asked.  "  I'm 
afraid  my  clubs  are  a  little  out  of  date.  I  am  stay- 
ing at  the  Carlton." 

"  The  Carlton  grill  room  is  quite  excellent,"  Mr. 
Mangan  suggested. 

"  They  are  keeping  me  a  table  until  half-past  one," 
Dominey  replied.  "  We  will  lunch  there,  by  all 
means." 

They  drove  off  together,  the  returned  traveller 
gazing  all  the  time  out  of  the  window  into  the 
crowded  streets,  the  lawyer  a  little  thoughtful. 

"  While  I  think  of  it.  Sir  Everard,"  the  latter  said, 
as  they  drew  near  their  destination,  "  I  should  be 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION  31 

glad  of  a  short  conversation  with  you  before  you  go 
down  to  Doniiney." 

"  With  regard  to  anything  in  particular?  " 

"  With  regard  to  Lady  Dominey,"  the  lawyer  told 
him  a  little  gravely. 

A  shadow  rested  on  his  companion's  face. 

*'  Is  her  ladyship  very  much  changed.''  " 

"  Physically,  she  is  in  excellent  health,  I  believe. 
Mentally  I  believe  that  there  is  no  change.  She  has 
unfortunately  the  same  rather  violent  prejudice 
which  I  am  afraid  influenced  your  departure  from 
England." 

"  In  plain  words,"  Dominey  said  bitterly,  "  she 
has  sworn  to  take  my  life  if  ever  I  sleep  under  the 
same  roof." 

"  She  will  need,  I  am  afraid,  to  be  strictly  watched," 
the  lawyer  answered  evasively.  "  Still,  I  think  you 
ought  to  be  told  that  time  does  not  seem  to  have 
lessened  her  tragical  antipathy." 

"  She  regards  me  still  as  the  murderer  of  Roger 
Unthank?  "  Dominey  asked,  in  a  measured  tone. 

"  I  am  afraid  she  does." 

"  And  I  suppose  that  every  one  else  has  the  same 
idea?" 

"  The  mystery,"  Mr.  Mangan  admitted,  "  has  never 
been  cleared  up.  It  is  well  known,  you  see,  that  3^ou 
fought  in  the  park  and  that  you  staggered  home  al- 
most senseless.  Roger  Unthank  has  never  been  seen 
from  that  day  to  this." 

"  If  I  had  killed  him,"  Dominey  pointed  out,  "  why 
was  liis  body  not  found?  " 

The  lawyer  shook  his  head. 


32  THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

"  There  are  all  sorts  of  theories,  of  course,"  he 
said,  "  but  for  one  superstition  jou  may  as  well  be 
prepared.  There  is  scarcely  a  man  or  a  woman  for 
miles  around  Dominey  who  doesn't  believe  that  the 
ghost  of  Roger  Unthank  still  haunts  the  Black  Wood 
near  where  you  fought." 

"  Let  us  be  quite  clear  about  this,"  Dominey  in- 
sisted. "  If  the  body  should  ever  be  found,  am  I 
liable,  after  all  these  years,  to  be  indicted  for  man- 
slaughter.?  " 

"  I  think  you  may  make  your  mind  quite  at  ease," 
the  lawyer  assured  him.  "  In  the  first  place,  I  don't 
think  you  would  ever  be  indicted." 

"  And  in  the  second.''  " 

"  There  isn't  a  human  being  in  that  part  of  Nor- 
folk would  ever  believe  that  the  body  of  man  or  beast, 
left  within  the  shadow  of  the  Black  Wood,  would 
ever  be  seen  or  heard  of  again  I  " 


CHAPTER  IV 

Mr.  Mangan,  on  their  way  into  the  grill  room, 
loitered  for  a  few  minutes  in  the  small  reception 
room,  chatting  with  some  acquaintances,  whilst  his 
host,  having  spoken  to  the  maitre  dliotel  and  ordered 
a  cocktail  from  a  passing  waiter,  stood  with  his  hands 
behind  his  back,  watching  the  inflow  of  men  and 
women  with  all  that  interest  which  one  might  be  sup- 
posed to  feel  in  one's  fellows  after  a  prolonged  ab- 
sence. He  had  moved  a  little  on  one  side  to  allow 
a  party  of  young  people  to  make  their  way  through 
the  crowded  chamber,  when  he  was  conscious  of  a 
woman  standing  alone  on  the  topmost  of  the  three 
thickly  carpeted  stairs.  Their  eyes  met,  and  hers, 
which  had  been  wandering  around  the  room  as  though 
in  search  of  some  acquaintance,  seemed  instantly  and 
fervently  held.  To  the  few  loungers  about  the  room, 
ignorant  of  any  special  significance  in  that  studied 
contemplation  of  the  man  on  the  part  of  the  woman, 
their  two  personalities  presented  an  agreeable,  al- 
most a  fascinating  study.  Dominey  was  six  feet 
two  in  height  and  had  to  its  fullest  extent  the  natural 
distinction  of  his  class,  together  with  the  half  mili- 
tary, half  athletic  bearing  which  seemed  to  have  been 
so  marvellously  restored  to  him.  His  complexion 
was    no    more    than    becomingly    tanned ;    his    slight 


34         THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

moustache,  trimmed  very  close  to  the  upper  lip,  was 
of  the  same  ruddy  brown  shade  as  his  sleekly  brushed 
hair.  The  woman,  who  had  commenced  now  to  move 
slowly  towards  him,  save  that  her  cheeks,  at  that 
moment,  at  any  rate,  were  almost  unnaturally  pale, 
was  of  the  same  colouring.  Her  red-gold  hair 
gleamed  beneath  her  black  hat.  She  was  tall,  a 
Grecian  type  of  figure,  large  without  being  coarse, 
majestic  though  still  young.  She  carried  a  little 
dog  under  one  arm  and  a  plain  black  silk  bag,  on 
which  was  a  coronet  in  platinum  and  diamonds,  in 
the  other  hand.  The  major-domo  who  presided  over 
the  room,  watching  her  approach,  bowed  with  more 
than  his  usual  urbanity.  Her  eyes,  however,  were 
still  fixed  upon  the  person  who  had  engaged  so  large 
a  share  of  her  attention.  She  came  towards  him, 
her  lips  a  little  parted. 

"Leopold!"  she  faltered.  "The  Holy  Saints, 
why  did  you  not  let  me  know !  " 

Dominey  bowed  very  slightly.  His  words  seemed 
to  have  a  cut  and  dried  flavour. 

"  I  am  so  sorry,"  he  replied,  "  but  I  fear  that  you 
make  a  mistake.     My  name  is  not  Leopold." 

She  stood  quite  still,  looking  at  him  with  the  air 
of  not  having  heard  a  word  of  his  polite  disclaimer. 

"  In  London,  of  all  places,"  she  murmured.  "  Tell 
me,  what  does  it  mean.''  " 

"  I  can  only  repeat,  madam,"  he  said,  "  that  to  my 
very  great  regret  I  have  not  the  honour  of  your 
acquaintance." 

She  was  puzzled,  but  absolutely  unconvinced. 

"  You  mean  to  deny  that  you  are  Leopold  von  Ra- 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION  35 

gastein?"  she  asked  incredulously.  "You  do  not 
know  me?  " 

"  Madam,"  he  answered,  "  it  is  not  my  great  pleas- 
ure.    My  name  is  Dominey  —  Everard  Dominey." 

She  seemed  for  a  moment  to  be  struggling  with 
some  embarrassment  which  approached  emotion. 
Then  she  laid  her  fingers  upon  his  sleeve  and  drew 
him  to  a  more  retired  corner  of  the  little  apart- 
ment. 

"  Leopold,"  she  whispered,  "  nothing  can  make  it 
wrong  or  indiscreet  for  you  to  visit  me.  My  address 
is  17,  Belgrave  Square.  I  desire  to  see  you  to-night 
at  seven  o'clock." 

"  But,  my  dear  lady,"  Dominey  began  — 

Her  eyes  suddenly  glowed  with  a  new  light. 

"  I  will  not  be  trifled  with,"  she  insisted.  "  If  you 
wish  to  succeed  in  whatever  scheme  you  have  on  hand, 
3'ou  must  not  make  an  enemy  of  me.  I  shall  expect 
you  at  seven  o'clock." 

She  passed  away  from  him  into  the  restaurant. 
Mr.  Mangan,  now  freed  from  his  friends,  rejoined 
his  host,  and  the  two  men  took  their  places  at  the 
side  table  to  which  they  were  ushered  with  many 
signs  of  attention. 

"  Wasn't  that  the  Princess  Eiderstrom  with  whom 
you  were  talking.''  "  the  solicitor  asked  curiously. 

"  A  lady  addressed  me  by  mistake,"  Dominey  ex- 
plained. "  She  mistook  me,  curiously  enough,  for  a 
man  who  used  to  be  called  my  double  at  Oxford. 
Sigismund  Devinter  he  was  then,  although  I  think  he 
came  into  a  title  later  on." 

"  The  Princess  is  quite  a  famous  personage,"  Mr. 


36         THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

Mangan  remarked,  "  one  of  the  richest  widows  in 
Europe.  Her  husband  was  killed  in  a  duel  some  six 
or  seven  years  ago." 

Dominey  ordered  the  luncheon  with  care,  slipping 
into  a  word  or  two  of  German  once  to  assist  the 
waiter,  who  spoke  English  with  difficulty.  His  com- 
panion smiled. 

"  I  see  that  you  have  not  forgotten  your  languages 
out  there  in  the  Avilds." 

"  I  had  no  chance  to,"  Dominey  answered.  "  I 
spent  five  3'ears  on  the  borders  of  German  East 
Africa,  and  I  traded  with  some  of  the  fellows  there 
regularly." 

"  By  the  by,"  Mr.  Mangan  enquired,  "  what  sort  of 
terms  are  we  on  with  the  Germans  out  there?  " 

"  Excellent,  I  should  think,"  was  the  careless  reply. 
"  I  never  had  any  trouble." 

"  Of  course,"  the  lawyer  continued,  "  this  will  all 
be  new  to  you,  but  during  the  last  few  years  Eng- 
lishmen have  become  divided  into  two  classes  —  the 
people  who  believe  that  the  Germans  wish  to  go  to 
war  and  crush  us,  and  those  who  don't." 

"  Then  since  my  return  the  number  of  the  '  don'ts  ' 
has  been  increased  by  one." 

"  I  am  amongst  the  doubtfuls  myself,"  Mr.  Mangan 
remarked.  "  All  the  same,  I  can't  quite  see  what 
Germany  wants  with  such  an  immense  army,  and  why 
she  is  continuall}^  adding  to  her  fleet." 

Dominey  paused  for  a  moment  to  discuss  the  mat- 
ter of  a  sauce  with  the  head  waiter.  He  returned  to 
the  subject  a  few  minutes  later  on,  however. 

"  Of  course,"  he  pointed  out,  "  my  opinions  can 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION  37 

only  come  from  a  study  of  the  newspapers  and  from 
conver-sations  with  such  Germans  as  I  have  met  out 
in  Africa,  but  so  far  as  her  army  is  concerned,  I 
should  have  said  that  Russia  and  France  were  re- 
sponsible for  that,  and  the  more  powerful  it  is,  the 
less  chance  of  any  European  conflagration.  Russia 
might  at  any  time  come  to  the  conclusion  that  a  war 
is  her  only  salvation  against  a  revolution,  and  you 
know  the  feeling  in  France  about  Alsace-Lorraine 
as  well  as  I  do.  The  Germans  themselves  say  that 
there  is  more  interest  in  military  matters  and  more 
progress  being  made  in  Russia  to-day  than  ever  be- 
fore." 

"  I  have  no  doubt  that  you  are  right,"  agreed  Mr. 
Mangan.  "  It  is  a  matter  which  is  being  a  great 
deal  discussed  just  now,  however.  Let  us  speak  of 
your  personal  plans.  What  do  you  intend  to  do  for 
the  next  few  weeks,  say?  Have  you  been  to  see  any 
of  your  relatives  yet.'*  " 

"  Not  one,"  Dominey  replied.  "  I  am  afraid  that 
I  am  not  altogether  keen  about  making  advances." 

Mr.  Mangan  coughed.  "  You  must  remember  that 
during  the  period  of  your  last  residence  in  London," 
he  said,  "  you  were  in  a  state  of  chronic  impecuni- 
osity.  No  doubt  that  rather  affected  the  attitude 
of  some  of  those  who  would  otherwise  have  been  more 
friendly." 

"  I  should  be  perfectly  content  never  to  see  one 
of  them  again,"  declared  Dominey,  with  perfect  truth. 

"  That,  of  course,  is  impossible,"  the  lawyer  pro- 
tested. "  You  must  go  and  see  the  Duchess,  at  any 
rate.      She  was  always  your  champion." 


38  THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

"  The  Duchess  was  always  very  kind  to  me,"  Dom- 
iney  admitted  doubtfully,  "  but  I  am  afraid  she  was 
rather  fed  up  before  I  left  England." 

Mr.  Mangan  smiled.  He  was  enjoying-  a  very  ex- 
cellent lunch,  which  it  seemed  hard  to  believe  was 
ordered  by  a  man  just  home  from  the  wilds  of  Africa, 
and  he  thoroughly  enjoyed  talking  about  duchesses. 

"  Her  Grace,"  he  began  — 

"Well?" 

The  lawyer  had  paused,  with  his  eyes  glued  upon 
the  couple  at  a  neighbouring  table.  He  leaned  across 
towards  his  companion. 

"The  Duchess  herself.  Sir  Everard,  just  behind 
you,  with  Lord  St.  Omar." 

"  This  place  must  certainly'  be  the  rendezvous  of 
all  the  world,"  Dominey  declared,  as  he  held  out  his 
hand  to  a  man  who  had  approached  their  table. 
"  Seaman,  my  friend,  welcome !  Let  me  introduce 
3'ou  to  m}'  friend  and  legal  adviser,  Mr.  Mangan  — 
Mr.  Seaman." 

Mr.  Seaman  was  a  short,  fat  man,  immaculately 
dressed  in  most  conventional  morning  attire.  He 
was  almost  bald,  except  for  a  little  tuft  on  either 
side,  and  a  few  long,  fair  hairs  carefully  brushed 
back  over  a  shining  scalp.  His  face  was  extraordi- 
narily round  except  towards  his  chin,  where  it  came 
to  a  point ;  his  eyes  bright  and  keen,  his  mouth  the 
mouth  of  a  professional  humourist.  He  shook  hands 
with  the  lawyer  with  an  empressement  which  was 
scarcely  English-. 

"  Within  the  space  of  half  an  hour,"  Dominey 
continued,  "  I  find  a  princess  who  desires  to  claim 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION  39 

my  acquaintance ;  a  cousin,"  he  dropped  his  voice  a 
little,  "  who  lunches  only  a  few  tables  away,  and  the 
man  of  whom  I  have  seen  most  during  the  last  ten 
years  amidst  scenes  a  little  different  from  these,  eh, 
Seaman?  " 

Seaman  accepted  the  chair  which  the  waiter  had 
brought  and  sat  down.  The  lawyer  was  immediately 
interested. 

"  Do  I  understand,  then,"  he  asked,  addressing  the 
newcomer,  "  that  you  knew  Sir  Everard  in  Africa?  " 

Seaman  beamed.  "  Knew  him?  "  he  repeated,  and 
with  the  first  words  of  his  speech  the  fact  of  his  for- 
eign nationality  was  established.  "  There  was  no  one 
of  whom  I  knew  so  much.  We  did  business  together 
—  a  great  deal  of  business  —  and  when  we  were  not 
partners.  Sir  Everard  generally  got  the  best  of  it." 

Domine^'  laughed.  "  Luck  generally  comes  to  a 
man  either  early  or  late  in  life.  My  luck  came  late. 
I  think,  Seaman,  that  you  must  have  been  my  mascot. 
Nothing  went  wrong  with  me  during  the  years  that  we 
did  business  together." 

Seaman  was  a  little  excited.  He  brushed  upright 
with  the  palm  of  his  hand  one  of  those  little  tufts  of 
hair  left  on  the  side  of  his  head,  and  he  laid  his  plump 
fingers  upon  the  lawyer's  shoulder. 

"  Mr.  Mangan,"  he  said,  "  you  listen  to  me.  I  sell 
this  man  the  controlling  interests  in  a  mine,  shares 
which  I  have  held  for  four  and  a  half  years  and  never 
drew  a  penny  dividend.  I  sell  them  to  him,  I  say,  at 
par.  Well,  I  need  the  money  and  it  seems  to  me  that 
I  had  given  the  shares  a  fair  chance.  Within  five 
weeks  —  five  weeks,  sir,"  he  repeated,  struggling  to 


.p         THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

attune  his  voice  to  his  civihsed  surroundings,  "  those 
shares  had  gone  from  par  to  fourteen  and  a  half. 
To-day  they  stand  at  twenty.  He  gave  me  five  thou- 
sand pounds  for  those  shares.  To-day  he  could  walk 
into  your  stock  market  and  sell  them  for  one  hundred 
thousand.  That  is  the  way  money  is  made  in  Africa, 
Mr.  Mangan,  where  innocents  like  me  are  to  be  found 
every  day." 

Dominey  poured  out  a  glass  of  wine  and  passed  it 
to  their  visitor. 

"  Come,"  he  said,  "  we  all  have  our  ups  and  downs. 
Africa  owes  you  nothing,  Seaman." 

"  I  have  done  well  in  my  small  way,"  Seaman  ad- 
mitted, fingering  the  stem  of  his  wineglass,  "  but 
where  I  have  had  to  plod,  Sir  Everard  here  has  stood 
and  commanded  fate  to  pour  her  treasures  into  his 
lap." 

The  lawyer  was  listening  with  a  curious  interest 
and  pleasure  to  this  half  bantering  conversation.  He 
found  an  opportunity  now  to  intervene. 

"  So  you  two  were  really  friends  in  Africa?  "  he 
remarked,  with  a  queer  and  almost  inexplicable  sense 
of  relief. 

"  If  Sir  Everard  permits  our  association  to  be  so 
called,"  Seaman  replied.  "  We  have  done  business 
together  in  the  great  cities  —  in  Johannesburg  and 
Pretoria,  in  Kimberley  and  Cape  Town  —  and  we 
have  prospected  together  in  the  wild  places.  We 
have  trekked  the  veldt  and  been  lost  to  the  world  for 
many  months  at  a  time.  We  have  seen  the  real  won- 
ders of  Africa  together,  as  well  as  her  tawdry  civ- 
ilisation." 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION  41 

"  And  you,  too,"  Mr.  Mangan  asked,  "  have  you 
retired?  " 

Seaman's  smile  was  almost  beatific. 

"  The  same  deal,"  he  said,  "  which  brought  Sir 
Everard's  fortune  to  wonderful  figures  brought  me 
that  modest  sum  which  I  had  sworn  to  reach  before  I 
I'eturned  to  England.  It  is  true.  I  have  retired 
from  money-making.  It  is  now  that  I  take  up  again 
my  real  life's  work." 

"  If  you  are  going  to  talk  about  your  hobby," 
Dominey  observed,  "  you  had  better  order  them  to 
serve  your  lunch  here." 

"  I  had  finished  my  lunch  before  you  came  in,"  his 
friend  replied.  "  I  drink  another  glass  of  wine  with 
you,  perhaps.  Afterwards  a  liqueur  —  who  can  say? 
In  this  climate  one  is  favoured,  one  can  drink  freely. 
Sir  Everard  and  I,  Mr.  Mangan,  have  been  in  places 
where  thirst  is  a  thing  to  be  struggled  against,  where 
for  months  a  little  weak  brandy  and  'water  was  our 
chief  dissipation." 

"  Tell  us  about  this  hobby?  "  the  lawyer  enquired. 

Dominey  intervened  promptly.  "  I  protest.  If  he 
begins  to  talk  of  that,  he'll  be  here  all  the  afternoon." 

Seaman  held  out  his  hands  and  rolled  his  head  from 
side  to  side. 

"But  I  am  not  so  unreasonable,"  he  objected. 
"Just  one  word  —  so?  Very  well,  then,"  he  pro- 
ceeded quickly,  with  the  air  of  one  fearing  Interrup- 
tion. "  This  must  be  clear  to  you,  Mr.  Mangan.  I 
am  a  German  by  birth,  naturalised  in  England  for 
the  sake  of  m}^  business,  loving  Germany,  fateful  to 
England.     One  third  of  my  life  I  hare  lived  in  Berfe, 


42  THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

one  third  at  Forest  Hill  here  in  London,  and  in  the 
city,  one  third  in  Africa.  I  have  watched  the  growth 
of  commercial  rivalries  and  jealousies  between  the 
two  nations.  There  is  no  need  for  them.  They 
might  lead  to  worse  things.  I  would  brush  them  all 
away.  My  aim  is  to  encourage  a  league  for  the  pro- 
motion of  more  cordial  social  and  business  relations 
between  the  people  of  Great  Britain  and  the  people  of 
the  German  Empire.  There !  Have  I  wasted  mucli 
of  your  time?  Can  I  not  speak  of  my  hobby  without 
a  flood  of  words  ?  " 

"  Conciseness  itself,"  Mangan  admitted,  "  and  I 
compliment  you  most  heartily  upon  your  scheme.  If 
you  can  get  the  right  people  into  it,  it  should  prove  a 
most  valuable  society." 

"  In  Germany  I  have  the  right  people.  All  Ger- 
mans who  live  for  their  country  and  feel  for  their 
country  loathe  the  thought  of  war.  We  want  peace, 
we  want  friends,  and,  to  speak  as  man  to  man,"  he 
concluded,  tapping  the  lawyer  upon  the  coat  sleeve, 
"  England  is  our  best  customer." 

"  I  wish  one  could  believe,"  the  latter  remarked, 
"  that  yours  was  the  popular  voice  in  your  country." 

Seaman  rose  reluctantly  to  his  feet. 

"  At  half-past  two,"  he  announced,  glancing  at  his 
watch,  "  I  have  an  appointment  with  a  woollen  manu- 
facturer from  Bradford.  I  hope  to  get  him  to  join 
my  council." 

He  bowed  ceremoniously  to  the  lawyer,  nodded  to 
Dominey  with  the  familiarity  of  an  old  friend,  and 
made  his   bustling,  good-humoured  way   out   of  the 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION  43 

"  A  sound  business  man,  I  should  think,"  was  the 
former's  comment.  "  I  wish  him  luck  with  his 
League.  You  yourself.  Sir  Everard,  will  need  to 
develop  some  new  interests.     Why  not  politics?  " 

"  I  really  expect  to  find  life  a  little  difficult  at  first," 
admitted  Dorainey,  with  a  shrug  of  his  shoulders. 
"  I  have  lost  many  of  the  tastes  of  my  youth,  and  I 
am  ver}'  much  afraid  that  my  friends  over  here  will 
call  me  colonial.  I  can't  fancy  myself  doing  nothing 
down  in  Norfolk  all  the  rest  of  my  days.  Perhaps  I 
shall  go  into  Parliament." 

"  You  must  forgive  my  saving,"  his  companion  de- 
clared impulsiA'ely,  "  that  I  never  knew  ten  years 
make  such  a  difference  in  a  man  in  my  life." 

"  The  colonies,"  Dominey  pronounced,  "  are  a  kill 
or  cure  sort  of  business.  You  either  take  your  drub- 
bing and  come  out  a  stronger  man,  or  you  go  under. 
I  had  the  very  narrowest  escape  from  going  under 
myself,  but  I  just  pulled  together  in  time.  To-day  I 
wouldn't  have  been  without  m}'  hard  times  for  any- 
thing in  the  world." 

"  If  3'ou  will  permit  me,"  Mr.  Mangan  said,  with 
an  inherited  pomposity,  "  on  this  our  first  meeting 
under  the  new  conditions,  I  should  like  to  offer  you 
my  hearty  congratulations,  not  onl}^  upon  what  you 
have  accomplished  but  upon  what  3'ou  have  become." 

"And  also,  I  hope,"  Dominey  rejoined,  smiling  a 
little  seriously  and  with  a  curious  glint  in  his  eyes, 
"  upon  what  I  may  yet  accomplish." 

The  Duchess  and  her  companion  had  risen  to  their 
fe£t,  and  the  foraier,  on  her  way  out,  recognising  her 
solicitor,  paused  graciously. 


44  THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

"How  do  you  do,  Mr.  Mangan?  "  she  said.  "I 
hope  you  are  looking  after  those  troublesome  tenants 
of  mine  in  Leicestershire?  " 

"  We  shall  make  our  report  in  due  course,  Duch- 
ess," Mangan  assured  her.  "  Will  yon  permit  me," 
he  added,  "  to  bring  back  to  your  memory  a  relative 
who  has  just  returned  from  abroad  —  Sir  Everard 
Dominey.'*  " 

Dominey  had  risen  to  his  feet  a  moment  previously 
and  now  extended  his  hand.  The  Duchess,  who  was  a 
tall,  graceful  woman,  with  masses  of  fair  hair  only 
faintly  interspersed  with  grey,  very  fine  brown  eyes, 
the  complexion  of  a  girl,  and,  to  quote  her  own  con- 
fession, the  manners  of  a  kitchen  maid,  stared  at  him 
for  a  moment  without  any  response. 

"  Sir  Everard  Dominey.''  "  she  repeated.  "  Ever- 
ard?    Ridiculous !  " 

Dominey's  extended  hand  was  at  once  withdrawn, 
and  the  tentative  smile .  faded  from  his  lips.  The 
lawyer  plunged  into  the  breach. 

"  I  can  assure  your  Grace,"  he  insisted  earnestly, 
"  that  there  is  no  doubt  whatever  about  Sir  Everard's 
identity.  He  only  returned  from  Africa  during  the 
last  few  days." 

The  Duchess's  incredulity  remained,  wholly  good- 
natured  but  ministered  to  by  her  natural  obstinacy. 

"  I  simply  cannot  bring  myself  to  believe  it,"  she 
declared.  "  Come,  I'll  challenge  you.  When  did 
we  meet  last  ?  " 

"  At  Worcester  House,"  was  the  prompt  reply. 
"  I  came  to  say  good-bye  to  you." 

The   Duchess   was    a   little   staggered.     Her   eyes 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION  45 

softened,  a  faint  smile  played  at  the  corners  of  her 
lips.  She  was  suddenly  a  very  attractive  looking 
woman. 

"  You  came  to  say  good-bye,"  she  repeated, 
"and.?" 

"I  am  to  take  that  as  a  challenge.''"  Dominey 
asked,  standing  very  upright  and  looking  her  in  the 
eyes. 

"  As  you  will." 

"  You  were  a  little  kinder  to  me,"  he  continued, 
"  than  you  are  to-day.  You  gave  me  —  this,"  he 
added,  drawing  a  small  picture  from  his  pocketbook, 
"  and  you  permitted  — •" 

"  For  heaven's  sake,  put  that  thing  away,"  she 
cried,  "  and  don't  say  another  word !  There's  my 
grown-up  nephew,  St.  Omar,  paying  his  bill  almost 
within  earshot.  Come  and  see  me  at  half-past  three 
this  afternoon,  and  don't  be  a  minute  late.  And,  St. 
Omar,"  she  went  on,  turning  to  the  young  man  who 
stood  now  by  her  side,  "  this  is  a  connection  of  yours 
—  Sir  Everard  Dominey.  He  is  a  terrible  person, 
but  do  shake  hands  with  him  and  come  along.  I  am 
half  an  hour  late  for  my  dressmaker  already." 

Lord  St.  Omar  chuckled  vaguely,  then  shook  hands 
with  his  new-found  relative,  nodded  affably  to  the 
lawyer  and  followed  his  aunt  out  of  the  room.  Man- 
gan's  expression  was  beatific. 

"  Sir  Everard,"  he  exclaimed,  "  God  bless  you !  If 
ever  a  woman  got  what  she  deserved!  I've  seen  a 
duchess  blush  —  first  time  in  my  life  !  " 


CHAPTER  V 

Worcester  House  was  one  of  those  serai-palatial 
residences  set  down  apparently  for  no  reason  what- 
ever in  the  middle  of  Regent's  Park.  It  had  been 
acquired  by  a  former  duke  at  the  instigation  of  the 
Regent,  who  was  his  intimate  friend,  and  retained  by 
later  generations  in  mute  protest  against  the  disfigur- 
ing edifices  which  had  made  a  millionaire's  highway  of 
Park  Lane.  Dominey,  who  was  first  scrutinised  by 
an  individual  in  bufF  waistcoat  and  silk  hat  at  the 
porter's  lodge,  was  interviewed  by  a  major-domo  in 
the  great  stone  hall,  conducted  through  an  extraor- 
dinarily Victorian  drawing-room  by  another  myrmi- 
don in  a  buff  waistcoat,  and  finally  ushered  into  a 
tiny  little  boudoir  leading  out  of  a  larger  apartment 
and  terminating  in  a  conservatory  filled  with  sweet- 
smelling  exotics.  The  Duchess,  who  was  reclining  in 
an  easy-chair,  held  out  her  hand,  which  her  visitor 
raised  to  his  lips.  She  motioned  him  to  a  seat  by  her 
side  and  once  more  scrutinised  him  with  unabashed 
intentness. 

"  There's  something  wrong  about  you,  you  know," 
she  declared. 

"That  seems  very  unfortunate,"  he  rejoined, 
"  when  I  return  to  find  you  wholly  unchanged." 

"  Not   bad,"    she    remarked    critically.     "  All   the 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION  47 

same,  I  have  changed.  I  am  not  in  the  least  in  love 
with  you  an}^  longer." 

"  It  was  the  fear  of  tliat  change  in  you,"  he  sighed, 
"  which  kept  me  for  so  long  in  the  furthest  corners  of 
the  world." 

She  looked  at  him  with  a  severity  which  was  obvi- 
ously assumed. 

"  Look  here,"  she  said,  "  it  is  better  for  us  to  have 
a  perfectly  clear  understanding  upon  one  point.  I 
know  the  exact  position  of  your  affairs,  and  I  know, 
too,  that  the  two  hundred  a  year  which  your  lawyer 
has  been  sending  out  to  you  came  partly  out  of  a 
few  old  trees  and  partly  out  of  his  own  pocket.  How 
you  are  going  to  live  over  here  I  cannot  imagine,  but 
it  isn't  the  least  use  expecting  Henry  to  do  a  thing 
for  3^ou.  The  poor  man  has  scarcely  enough  pocket 
money  to  pay  his  travelling  expenses  when  he  goes 
lecturing." 

"  Lecturing?  "  Dominey  repeated.  "  What's  hap- 
pened to  poor  Henry?  " 

"  M}'^  husband  is  an  exceedingly  conscientious 
man,"  was  the  dignified  reply.  "  He  goes  from  town 
to  town  with  Lord  Roberts  and  a  secretary,  lecturing 
on  national  defence." 

"  Dear  Henry  was  always  a  little  cranky,  wasn't 
he?  "  Dominey  observed.  "  Let  me  put  your  mind  at 
rest  on  that  other  matter,  though,  Caroline.  I  can 
assure  you  that  I  have  come  back  to  England  not  to 
borrow  money  but  to  spend  it." 

His  cousin  shook  her  head  mournfully.  "  And  a 
few  minutes  ago  I  was  nearly  observing  that  you  had 
lost  your  sense  of  humour  !  " 


48  THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

"  I  am  in  earnest,"  he  persisted.  "  Africa  has 
turned  out  to  be  my  Eldorado.  Quite  unexpectedly, 
I  must  admit,  I  came  in  for  a  considerable  sum  of 
money  towards  the  end  of  my  stay  there.  I  am  pay- 
ing off  the  mortgages  at  Dominey  at  once,  and  I 
want  Henry  to  jot  down  on  paper  at  once  those  few 
amounts  he  was  good  enough  to  lend  me  in  the  old 
days." 

Caroline,  Duchess  of  Worcester,  sat  perfectly  still 
for  a  moment  with  her  mouth  open,  a  condition  which 
was  entirely  natural  but  unbecoming. 

"  And  3'ou  mean  to  tell  me  that  you  really  are 
Everard  Dominey?  "  she  exclaimed. 

"  The  weight  of  evidence  is  rather  that  way,"  he 
murmured. 

He  moved  his  chair  deliberately  a  little  nearer,  took 
her  hand  and  raised  it  to  his  lips.  Her  face  was 
perilously  near  to  his.  She  drew  a  little  back  —  not 
too  abruptly. 

"  My  dear  Everard,"  she  whispered,  "  Henry  is  in 
the  house  !  Besides  —  Yes,  I  suppose  you  must  be 
Everard.  Just  now  there  was  something  in  your 
eyes  exactly  like  his.  But  you  are  so  stiff.  Have 
you  been  drilling  out  there  or  anything.^  " 

He  shook  his  head. 

"  One  spends  half  one's  time  in  the  saddle." 

"  And  3"ou  are  really  well  off?  "  she  asked  again 
wonderingly. 

"  If  I  had  stayed  there  another  3'ear,"  he  replied, 
"  and  been  able  to  marry  a  Dutch  Jewess,  I  should 
have  qualified  for  Park  Lane." 

She  sighed. 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION  49 

"  It's  too  wonderful.  Henry  will  love  having  his 
money  back." 

"And  you?" 

She  looked  positively  distressed. 

"  You've  lost  all  your  manners,"  she  complained. 
"  You  make  love  like  a  garden  rake.  You  should 
have  leaned  towards  me  with  a  quiver  in  your  voice 
Avhen  you  said  those  last  two  "words,  and  instead  of 
that  you  look  as  thougli  you  were  sitting  at  attention, 
with  a  positive  glint  of  steel  in  your  e3^es." 

"  One  sees  a  woman  once  in  a  blue  moon  out  there," 
he  pleaded. 

She  shook  her  head.  "  You've  changed.  It  was  a 
sixth  sense  with  you  to  make  love  in  exactly  the  right 
tone,  to  say  exactly'  the  right  thing  in  the  right 
manner." 

"  I  shall  pick  it  up,"  he  declared  hopefully,  "  with 
a  little  assistance." 

She  made  a  little  grimace. 

"  You  won't  want  an  old  woman  like  me  to  assist 
you,  Everard.  You'll  have  the  town  at  3'our  feet. 
You'll  be  able  to  frivol  with  musical  comedy,  flirt 
with  our  married  beauties,  or  —  I'm  sorry,  Everard. 
I  forgot." 

"  You  forgot  what.''  "  he  asked  steadfastly. 

"  I  forgot  the  tragedy  which  finally  drove  3'ou 
abroad.  I  forgot  your  marriage.  Is  there  any 
change  in  your  wife  ?  " 

"  Not  much,  I  am  afraid." 

"  And  ]Mr.  Mangan  —  he  thinks  that  j^ou  are  safe 
over  here?  " 

"  Perfectly." 


50  THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

She  looked  at  him  earnestly.  Perhaps  she  had 
never  admitted,  even  to  herself,  how  fond  she  had  been 
of  this  scapegrace  cousin. 

"  You'll  find  that  no  one  will  have  a  word  to  say 
against  you,"  she  told  him,  "  now  that  you  are 
wealthy  and  regenerate.  They'll  forget  everything 
you  want  them  to.  When  Avill  you  come  and  dine 
here  and  meet  all  your  relatives?  " 

"  Whenever  you  are  kind  enough  to  ask  me,"  he 
answered.  "  I  thought  of  going  down  to  Dominey 
to-morrow." 

She  looked  at  him  with  a  new  thing  in  her  eyes  — 
something  of  fear,  something,  too,  of  admiration. 

"  But  —  your  wife?  " 

"  She  is  there,  I  believe,"  he  said.  "  I  cannot  help 
.  t.     I  have  been  an  exile  from  my  home  long  enough." 

"  Don't  go,"  she  begged  suddenly.  "  Why  not  be 
brave  and  have  her  removed.  I  know  how  tender- 
hearted you  are,  but  you  have  your  future  and  3^our 
career  to  consider.  For  her  sake,  too,  you  ought 
not  to  give  her  the  opportunity  — " 

Dominey  could  never  make  up  his  mind  whether 
the  interruption  which  came  at  that  moment  was 
welcome  or  otherwise.  Caroline  suddenly  broke  off 
in  her  speech  and  glanced  warningly  towards  the 
larger  room.  A  tall,  grey-haired  man,  dressed  in 
old-fashioned  clothes  and  wearing  a  pince-nez,  had 
lifted  the  curtains.  He  addressed  the  Duchess  in  a 
thin,  reedy  voice. 

"  My  dear  Caroline,"  he  began, — "  ah,  you  must 
forgive  me.  I  did  not  know  tliat  you  were  engaged. 
We  will  not  stay,  but  I  should  like  to  present  to  you 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION  51 

a  young  friend  of  mine  who  is  going  to  help  me  at 
the  meeting  this  evening." 

"  Do  bring  him  in,"  his  wife  replied,  her  voice 
once  more  attuned  to  its  usual  drawl.  "  And  I  have 
a  surprise  for  you  too,  Henry  —  a  very  great  sur- 
prise, I  think  you  will  find  it !  " 

Dominey  rose  to  his  feet  —  a  tall,  commanding 
figure  —  and  stood  waiting  the  approach  of  the 
newcomer.  The  Duke  advanced,  looking  at  him  en- 
quiringly. A  young  man,  very  obviously  a  soldier 
in  mufti,  was  hovering  in  the  background. 

"  I  must  plead  guilty  to  the  surprise,"  the  Duke 
confessed  courteously.  "  There  is  something  ex- 
ceedingly familiar  about  your  face,  sir,  but  I  cannot 
remember  having  had  the  privilege  of  meeting  you." 

"  You  see,"  Caroline  observed,  "  I  am  not  the  only 
one,  Everard,  who  did  not  accept  you  upon  a  glance. 
This  is  Everard  Dominey,  Henry,  returned  from 
foreign  exile  and  regenerated  in  every  sense  of  the 
word." 

"  How  do  you  do?  "  Dominey  said,  holding  out  his 
hand.  "  I  seem  to  be  rather  a  surprise  to  every 
one,  but  I  hope  you  haven't  quite  forgotten  me." 

"  God  bless  my  soul !  "  the  Duke  exclaimed.  "  You 
don't  mean  to  say  that  you're  reall}'  Everard  Dom- 
iney? " 

"  I  am  he,  be3'ond  a  doubt,"  was  the  calm  assur- 
ance. 

"  Most  amazing !  "  the  Duke  declared,  as  he  shook 
hands.  "  Most  amazing!  I  never  saw  such  a  change 
in  my  life.  Yes,  yes,  I  see  —  same  complexion,  of 
course  —  nose  and  eyes  —  yes,  yes  !     But  you  seem 


52  THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

taller,  and  you  carry  yourself  like  a  soldier.  Dear, 
dear  me !  Africa  has  done  wonderfully  by  you. 
Delighted,  my  dear  Everard !     Delighted !  " 

"  You'll  be  more  delighted  still  when  you  hear  the 
rest  of  the  news,"  his  wife  remarked  drily.  "  In 
the  meantime,  do  present  your  friend." 

"  Precisely  so,"  the  Duke  acquiesced,  turning  to 
the  young  man  in  the  background.  "  Most  sorry, 
my  dear  Captain  Bartram.  The  unexpected  return 
of  a  connection  of  my  wife  must  be  my  apology  for 
this  lapse  of  manners.  Let  me  present  you  to  the 
Duchess.  Captain  Bartram  is  just  back  from  Ger- 
many, my  dear,  and  is  an  enthusiastic  supporter  of 
our  cause. —     Sir  Everard  Dominey." 

Caroline  shook  hands  kindly  with  her  husband's 
protege,  and  Dominey  exchanged  a  solemn  hand- 
shake with  him. 

"  You,  too,  are  one  of  those,  then,  Captain  Bar- 
tram, who  are  convinced  that  Germany  has  evil  de- 
signs upon  us?  "  the  former  said,  smiling. 

"  I  have  just  returned  from  Germany  after  twelve 
months'  stay  there,"  the  young  soldier  replied.  "  I 
went  with  an  open  mind.  I  have  come  back  con- 
vinced that  we  shall  be  at  war  with  Germany  within 
a  couple  of  years." 

The  Duke  nodded  vigorously. 

"  Our  young  friend  is  right,"  he  declared. 
"  Three  times  a  week  for  many  months  I  have  been 
drumming  the  fact  into  the  handful  of  wooden- 
headed  Englishmen  who  have  deigned  to  come  to  our 
meetings.  I  have  made  myself  a  nuisance  to  the 
House  of  Lords  and  the  Press.     It  is  a  terrible  thing 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION  53 

to  realise  how  hard  it  is  to  make  an  Englishman 
reflect,  so  long  as  he  is  making  money  and  having 
a  good  time. —  You  are  just  back  from  Africa, 
Everard?  " 

"  Within  a  week,  sir." 

"  Did  you  see  anj-thing  of  the  Germans  out  there .f* 
Were  you  anywhere  near  their  Colony.'*  " 

"  I  have  been  in  touch  with  them  for  some  3^ears," 
Dominey  replied. 

"  Most  interesting ! "  his  questioner  exclaimed. 
"  You  may  be  of  service  to  us,  Everard.  You  may, 
indeed !  Now  tell  me,  isn't  it  true  that  they  have 
secret  agents  out  there,  trying  to  provoke  unsettle- 
ment  and  disquiet  amongst  the  Boers.'*  Isn't  it  true 
that  they  apprehend  a  war  with  England  before  very 
long  and  are  determined  to  stir  up  the  Colony 
against  us.''  " 

"  I  am  very  sorr}',"  Domine}^  replied,  "  but  I  am 
not  a  politician  in  any  shape  or  form.  All  the  Ger- 
mans whom  I  have  met  out  there  seem  a  most  peace- 
able race  of  men,  and  there  doesn't  seem  to  be  the 
slightest  discontent  amongst  the  Boers  or  any  one 
else." 

The  Duke's  face  fell.      "  This  is  very  surprising." 

"  The  only  people  who  seem  to  have  any  cause  for 
discontent,"  Dominey  continued,  "  are  the  English 
settlers.  I  didn't  commence  to  do  any  good  myself 
there  till  a  few  years  ago,  but  I  have  heard  some 
queer  stories  about  the  way  our  own  people  were 
treated  after  the  war." 

"  What  you  say  about  South  Africa,  Sir  Everard," 
the  young  soldier  remarked,  "  is  naturally  interest- 


54  THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

ing,  but  I  am  bound  to  say  that  it  is  in  direct  oppo- 
sition to  all  I  have  heard." 

"  And  I,"  the  Duke  echoed  fervently. 

"  I  have  lived  there  for  the  last  eleven  years," 
Dominey  continued,  "  and  although  I  spent  the  earlier 
part  of  that  time  trekking  after  big  game,  lately  I 
am  bound  to  confess  that  every  thought  and  energy 
I  possess  have  been  centered  upon  money-making. 
For  that  reason,  perhaps,  my  observations  may  have 
been  at  fault.  I  shall  claim  the  privilege  of  coming 
to  one  of  your  first  meetings,  Duke,  and  of  trying 
to  understand  this  question." 

His  august  connection  blinked  at  him  a  little  curi- 
ously for  a  moment  behind  his  glasses. 

"  My  dear  Everard,"  he  said,  "  forgive  my  re- 
marking it,  but  I  find  you  more  changed  than  I  could 
have  believed  possible." 

"  Everard  is  changed  in  more  ways  than  one," 
his  wife  observed,  with  faint  irony. 

Dominey,  who  had  risen  to  leave,  bent  over  her 
hand. 

"What  about  my  dinner  party,  sir.''"  she  added. 

"  As  soon  as  I  return  from  Norfolk,"  he  replied. 

"  Dominey  Hall  will  really  find  you  ?  "  she  asked 
a  little  curiously. 

"  Most  certainly  !  " 

There  was  again  that  little  flutter  of  fear  in  her 
eyes,  followed  by  a  momentary  flash  of  admiration. 
Dominey  shook  hands  gravely  with  his  host  and 
nodded  to  Bartram.  The  servant  whom  the  Duchess 
had  summoned  stood  holding  the  curtains  on  one 
side. 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION  55 

"  I  shall  hope  to  see  you  again  shortly,  Duke," 
Dominey  said,  as  he  completed  his  leave-taking. 
"  There  is  a  little  matter  of  business  to  be  adjusted 
between  us.  You  will  probably  hear  from  Mr.  Alan- 
gan  in  a  day  or  two." 

The  Duke  gazed  after  the  retreating  figure  of  this 
very  amazing  visitor.  When  the  curtains  had  fallen 
he  turned  to  his  wife. 

"  A  little  matter  of  business,"  he  repeated.  "  I 
hope  you  have  explained  to  Everard,  my  dear,  that 
although,  of  course,  we  are  very  glad  to  see  him  back 
again,  it  is  absolutely  hopeless  for  him  to  look  to 
me  for  any  financial  assistance  at  the  present  mo- 
ment." 

Caroline  smiled, 

"  Everard  was  alluding  to  the  money  he  already 
owes  you,"  she  explained.  "  He  intends  to  repay  it 
at  once.  He  is  also  paying  off  the  Dominey  mort- 
gages. He  has  apparently  made  a  fortune  in 
Africa." 

The  Duke  collapsed  into  an  easy-chair. 

"  Everard  pay  his  debts?  "  he  exclaimed.  "  Ever- 
ard Dominey  pay  off  the  mortgages.''  " 

"  That  is  what  I  understand,"  his  wife  acquiesced. 

The  Duke  clutched  at  the  last  refuge  of  a  weak  but 
obstinate  man.  His  mouth  came  together  like  a  rat- 
trap. 

"  There's  something  wrong  about  it  somewhere," 
he  declared. 


CHAPTER  VI 

Dominey  spent  a  very  impatient  hour  that  evening 
in  his  sitting-room  at  the  Carlton,  waiting  for  Sea- 
man. It  was  not  until  nearly  seven  that  the  latter 
appeared. 

"  Are  you  aware,"  Dominey  asked  him,  "  that  I 
am  expected  to  call  upon  the  Princess  Eiderstrom 
at  seven  o'clock?  " 

"  I  have  your  word  for  it,"  Seaman  replied,  "  but 
I  see  no  traged}'  in  the  situation.  The  Princess  is 
a  woman  of  sense  and  a  woman  of  political  insight. 
While  I  cannot  recommend  you  to  take  her  entirely 
into  your  confidence,  I  still  think  that  a  middle  course 
can  be  judiciousU^  pursued." 

"  Rubbish  !  "  Dominey  exclaimed.  "  As  Leopold 
von  Ragastein,  the  Princess  has  indisputable  claims 
upon  me  and  my  liberty,  claims  which  would  alto- 
gether interfere  with  the  career  of  Everard  Dom- 
iney." 

With  methodical  neatness.  Seaman  laid  his  hat, 
gloves  and  walking  stick  upon  the  sideboard.  He 
then  looked  into  the  connecting  bedroom,  closed  and 
fastened  the  door  and  extended  himself  in  an  eas}^- 
chair. 

"  Sit  opposite  to  me,  my  friend,"  he  said.  "  We 
will  talk  together." 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION  57 

Dominey  obej^cd  a  little  sullenly.  His  companion, 
however,  ignored  his  demeanour. 

"  Now,  my  friend,"  he  said,  beating  upon  the  palm 
of  one  hand  with  the  forefinger  of  his  other,  "  I  am 
a  man  of  commerce  and  I  do  things  in  a  business 
way.  Let  us  take  stock  of  our  position.  Three 
months  ago  last  week,  we  met  by  appointment  at  a 
certain  hotel  in  Cape  Town." 

"  Only  three  months,"  Domine}^  muttered. 

"  We  were  unknown  to  one  another,"  Seaman  con- 
tinued. "  I  had  only  heard  of  the  Baron  von  Ra- 
gastein  as  a  devoted  German  citizen  and  patriot,  en- 
gaged in  an  important  enterprise  in  East  Africa 
by  special  intercession  of  the  Kaiser,  on  account  of 
a  certain  unfortunate  happening  in  Hungary." 

"  I  killed  a  man  in  a  duel,"  Dominey  said  slowly, 
with  his  eyes  fixed  upon  his  companion's.  "  It  was 
not  an  unforgivable  act." 

"  There  are  duels  and  duels.  A  fight  between  two 
young  men,  in  defence  of  the  honour  of  or  to  gain 
the  favour  of  a  young  lady  in  their  own  station  of 
life,  has  never  been  against  the  conventions  of  the 
Court.  On  the  other  hand,  to  become  the  lover  of 
the  wife  of  one  of  the  greatest  nobles  in  Hungary, 
and  to  secure  possession  by  killing  the  husband  in 
the  duel  which  his  honour  makes  a  necessity  is  looked 
upon  very  diflTerently." 

"  I  had  no  wish  to  kill  the  Prince,"  Dominey  pro- 
tested, "  nor  was  it  at  my  desire  that  we  met  at  all. 
The  Prince  fought  like  a  madman  and  slipped,  after 
a  wild  lunge,  on  to  the  point  of  my  stationary  sword." 

"  Let   that  pass,"   Seaman    said.     "  I    am   not   of 


58  THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

your  order  and  I  probably  do  not  understand  the 
etiquette  of  these  matters.  I  simply  look  upon  you 
as  a  culprit  in  the  eyes  of  our  master,  and  I  feel 
that  he  has  a  right  to  demand  from  you  much  in 
the  way  of  personal  sacrifice." 

"  Perhaps  you  will  tell  me,"  Dominey  demanded, 
"  what  more  he  would  have  ?  I  have  spent  weary 
years  in  a  godless  and  fever-ridden  country,  rais- 
ing up  for  our  arms  a  great  troop  of  natives.  I 
have  undertaken  other  political  commissions  in  the 
Colony  which  may  bear  fruit.  I  am  to  take  up  the 
work  for  which  I  was  originally  intended,  for  which 
I  was  given  an  English  education.  I  am  to  repair 
to  England,  and,  under  such  identity  as  I  might 
assume  after  consultation  with  3^ou  at  Cape  Town,  I 
am  to  render  myself  so  far  as  possible  a  persona  grata 
in  that  country.  I  do  not  wait  for  our  meeting.  I 
see  a  great  chance  and  I  make  use  of  it.  I  trans- 
form myself  into  an  English  country  gentleman,  and 
I  think  you  will  admit  that  I  have  done  so  with  great 
success." 

"  All  that  you  say  is  granted,"  Seaman  agreed. 
"  You  met  me  at  Cape  Town  in  your  new  identity, 
and  you  certainly  seemed  to  wear  it  wonderfull3^ 
You  have  made  it  uncommonly  expensive,  but  we  do 
not  grudge  money." 

"  I  could  not  return  home  to  a  poverty-stricken 
domain,"  Dominey  pointed  out.  "  I  should  have  held 
no  place  whatever  in  English  social  life,  and  I  should 
have  received  no  welcome  from  those  with  whom  I 
imagine  you  desire  me  to  stand  well." 

"  Again  I  make  no  complaints,"  Seaman  declared. 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION  59 

"  There  is  no  bottom  to  our  purse,  nor  any  stint. 
Neither  must  there  be  any  stint  to  our  loyalty,"  he 
added  gravely. 

"  In  this  instance,"  Dominey  protested,  "  it  is  not 
a  matter  of  loyalty.  Everard  Dominey  cannot  throw 
himself  at  the  feet  of  the  Princess  Eiderstrom,  well- 
known  to  be  one  of  the  most  passionate  women  in 
Europe,  whilst  her  love  affair  with  Leopold  von 
Raga stein  is  still  remembered.  Remember  that  the 
question  of  our  identities  might  crop  up  any  day. 
We  were  friends  over  here  in  England,  at  school  and 
at  college,  and  there  are  many  who  will  still  remem- 
ber the  likeness  between  us.  Perfectly  though  I  may 
play  my  part,  here  and  there  there  may  be  doubts. 
These  will  be  doubts  no  longer  if  I  am  to  be  dragged 
at  the  chariot  wheels  of  the  Princess." 

Seaman  was  silent  for  a  moment. 

"  There  is  reason  in  what  you  saj^,"  he  admitted 
presently.  "  It  is  for  a  few  months  only.  What  is 
your  proposition?  " 

"  That  you  see  the  Princess  in  my  place  at  once," 
Dominey  suggested  eagerly.  "  Point  out  to  her  that 
for  the  present,  for  political  reasons,  I  am  and  must 
remain  Everard  Dominey,  to  her  as  to  the  rest  of  the 
world.  Let  her  be  content  Avith  such  measure  of 
friendship  and  admiration  as  Sir  Everard  Dominey 
might  reasonably  offer  to  a  beautiful  woman  whom 
he  met  to-day  for  the  first  time,  and  I  am  entirely 
and  with  all  my  heart  at  her  service.  But  let  her 
remember  that  even  between  us  two,  in  the  solitude 
of  her  room  as  in  the  drawing-rooms  where  we  might 
meet,  it  can  be  Everard  Dominey  only  until  my  mis- 


6o  THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

sion  is  ended.  You  think,  perhaps,  that  I  lay  un- 
necessary stress  upon  this.  I  do  not.  I  know  the 
Princess  and  I  know  myself." 

Seaman  glanced  at  the  clock.  "  At  what  hour  was 
your  appointment?" 

"  It  was  not  an  appointment,  it  was  a  command," 
Dominey  replied.  "  I  was  told  to  be  at  Belgravo 
Square  at  seven  o'clock." 

"  I  will  have  an  understanding  with  the  Princess," 
promised  Seaman,  as  he  took  up  his  hat.  "  Dine 
with  me  downstairs  at  eight  o'clock  on  my  return." 

Dominey,  descending  about  an  hour  later,  found 
his  friend  Seaman  already  established  at  a  small, 
far-awa}^  table  set  in  one  of  the  recesses  of  the  grill 
room.  He  was  welcomed  with  a  little  wave  of  the 
hand,  and  cocktails  were  at  once  ordered. 

"  I  have  done  your  errand,"  Seaman  announced. 
"  Since  my  visit  I  am  bound  to  admit  that  I  realise 
a  little  more  fully  your  anxiety." 

"  You  probably  had  not  met  the  Princess  before.''  " 

"  I  had  not.  I  must  confess  that  I  found  her  a 
lady  of  somewhat  overpowering  temperament.  I 
fancy,  my  young  friend,"  Seaman  continued,  with 
a  twitch  at  the  corner  of  his  lips,  "  that  somewhere 
about  August  next  vear  you  will  find  your  hands 
full." 

"  August  next  year  can  take  care  of  itself,"  was 
the  cool  reply. 

"  In  the  meantime,"  Seaman  continued,  "  the  Prin- 
cess understands  the  situation  and  is,  I  think,  im- 
pressed.     She  will  at  any  rate  do  nothing  rash.     You 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION  6i 

and  she  will  meet  within  the  course  of  the  next  few 
hours,  but  on  reasonable  terms.  To  proceed !  As  I 
drove  back  here  after  my  interview  with  the  Princess, 
I  decided  that  it  was  time  you  made  the  acquaintance 
of  the  person  who  is  chiefly  responsible  for  your 
presence  here." 

"  TernilofF?  " 

"  Precisely !  You  have  maintained,  my  young 
friend,"  Seaman  went  on  after  a  brief  pause,  during 
which  one  waiter  had  brought  their  cocktails  and 
another  received  their  order  for  dinner,  "  a  very  dis- 
creet and  laudable  silence  with  regard  to  those  fur- 
ther instructions  which  were  promised  to  3'ou  imme- 
diately you  should  arrive  in  London.  Those  instruc- 
tions will  never  be  committed  to  writing.  They  are 
here." 

Seaman  touched  his  forehead  and  drained  the  re- 
maining contents  of  his  glass. 

"  My  instructions  are  to  trust  you  absolutely," 
Dominey  observed,  "  and,  until  the  greater  events  stir, 
to  concentrate  the  greater  part  of  my  energies  in 
leading  the  natural  life  of  the  man  whose  name  and 
place  I  have  taken." 

"  Quite  so,"  Seaman  acquiesced. 

He  glanced  around  the  room  for  a  moment  or  two, 
as  though  interested  in  the  people.  Satisfied  at  last 
that  there  was  no  chance  of  being  overheard,  he  con- 
tinued: 

"  The  first  idea  you  have  to  get  out  of  your  head, 
my  dear  friend,  if  it  is  there,  is  that  you  are  a  spy. 
You  are  nothing  of  the  sort.  You  are  not  con- 
nected  with  our   remarkably  perfect   system   of   es- 


62  THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

pionage  in  the  slightest  degree.  You  are  a  free 
agent  in  all  that  a^ou  maj^  choose  to  say  or  do.  You 
can  believe  in  Germany  or  fear  her  —  whichever  you 
like.  You  can  join  your  cousin's  husband  in  his 
crusade  for  National  Service,  or  you  can  join  me  in 
my  efforts  to  cement  the  bonds  of  friendship  and 
affection  between  the  citizens  of  the  two  countries. 
We  really  do  not  care  in  the  least.  Choose  your  own 
part.  Live  yourself  thoroughly  into  the  life  of  Sir 
Everard  Dominey,  Baronet,  of  Dominey  Hall,  Nor- 
folk, and  pursue  exactly  the  course  which  you  think 
Sir  Everard  himself  would  be  likely  to  take." 

"  This,"  Dominey  admitted,  "  is  very  broad- 
minded." 

"  It  is  common  sense,"  was  the  prompt  reply. 
"  With  all  your  ability,  you  could  not  in  six  months' 
time  appreciably  affect  the  position  either  way. 
Therefore,  we  choose  to  have  you  concentrate  the 
whole  of  your  energies  upon  one  task  and  one  task 
only.  If  there  is  anything  of  the  spy  about  your 
mission  here,  it  is  not  England  or  the  English  which 
are  to  engage  your  attention.  We  require  j^ou  to 
concentrate  wholly  and  entirely  upon  Temiloff." 

Dominey  was  startled. 

"  Terniloff .''  "  he  i-epeated.  "  I  expected  to  work 
with  him,  but  — " 

"  Empty  your  mind  of  all  preconceived  ideas," 
Seaman  enjoined.  "What  your  duties  are  with  re- 
gard to  Terniloff  will  grow  upon  3'ou  gradually  as 
the  situation  develops." 

"  As  yet,"  Dominey  remarked,  "  I  have  not  even 
made  his  acquaintance." 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION  63 

"  I  was  on  the  point  of  telling  you,  earlier  in  our 
conversation,  that  I  have  made  an  appointment  for 
you  to  see  him  at  eleven  o'clock  to-night  at  the  Em- 
bassy. You  will  go  to  him  at  tliat  hour.  Remem- 
ber, you  know  nothing,  you  are  waiting  for  instruc- 
tions. Let  speech  remain  with  him  alone.  Be  par- 
ticularly careful  not  to  drop  him  a  hint  of  your 
knowledge  of  what  is  coming.  You  will  find  him 
absolutely  satisfied  with  the  situation,  absolutely 
content.  Take  care  not  to  disturb  him.  He  is  a 
missioner  of  peace.      So  are  you." 

"  I  begin  to  understand,"  Dominey  said  thought- 
fully. 

"  You  shall  understand  everything  when  the  time 
comes  for  you  to  take  a  hand,"  Seaman  promised, 
"  and  do  not  in  your  zeal  forget,  my  friend,  that 
your  utility  to  our  great  cause  will  depend  largel}' 
upon  your  being  able  to  establish  and  maintain  your 
position  as  an  English  gentleman.  So  far  all  has 
gone  well?  " 

"  Perfectly,  so  far  as  I  am  concerned,"  Dominey 
replied.  "  You  must  remember,  though,  that  there 
is  3'our  end  to  keep  up.  Berlin  will  be  receiving 
frantic  messages  from  East  Africa  as  to  my  disap- 
pearance. Not  even  my  immediate  associates  were 
in  the  secret." 

"  That  is  all  understood,"  Seaman  assured  his  com- 
panion. "  A  little  doctor  named  Schmidt  has  spent 
many  marks  of  the  Government  money  in  frantic 
cables.     You  must  have  endeared  yourself  to  him." 

"  He  was  a  very  faithful  associate." 

"  He    has    been    a    very    troublesome    friend.     It 


64  THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

seems  that  the  natives  got  tlieir  stories  rather  mixed 
up  concerning  your  namesake,  who  apparently  died 
in  the  bush,  and  Schmidt  continually  emphasised 
your  promise  to  let  him  hear  from  Cape  Town. 
However,  all  this  has  been  dealt  with  satisfactorily. 
The  only  real  dangers  are  over  here,  and  so  far  you 
seem  to  have  encountered  the  principal  ones." 

"  I  have  at  any  rate  been  accepted,"  Dominey  de- 
clared, "  by  my  nearest  living  relative,  and  inci- 
dentally I  have  discovered  the  one  far-seeing  person 
in  England  who  knows  what  is  in  store  for  us." 

Seaman  was  momentarily  anxious. 

"  Whom  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"  The  Duke  of  Worcester,  my  cousin's  husband, 
of  whom  you  were  speaking  just  now." 

The  little  man's  face  relaxed. 

"  He  reminds  me  of  the  geese  who  saved  the  Cap- 
itol," he  said,  "  a  brainless  man  obsessed  with  one 
idea.  It  is  queer  how  often  these  fanatics  discover 
the  truth.  That  reminds  me,"  he  added,  taking  a 
small  memorandum  book  from  his  waistcoat  pocket 
and  glancing  it  through.  "  His  Grace  has  a  meet- 
ing to-niglit  at  the  Holborn  Town  Hall.  I  shall 
make  one  of  my  usual  interruptions." 

"  If  he  has  so  small  a  following,  why  don't  you 
leave  him  alone?  "  Dominey  enquired. 

"  There  are  others  associated  with  him,"  was  the 
placid  reply,  "  who  are  not  so  insignificant.  Besides, 
when  I  interrupt  I  advertise  my  own  little  hobby." 

"  These  —  we  English  are  strange  people,"  Dom- 
iney remarked,  glancing  around  the  room  after  a 
brief    but    thoughtful    pause.      "  We    adverti-«e    ^n/i 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION  65 

boast  about  our  colossal  wealth,  and  yet  we  are  in- 
capable of  the  slightest  self-sacrifice  in  order  to  pre- 
serve it.  One  would  have  imagined  that  our  phi- 
losophers, our  historians,  would  warn  us  in  irresist- 
ible terms,  by  unanswerable  scientific  deduction,  of 
what  was  coming." 

"  My  compliments  to  your  pronouns,"  Seaman 
murmured,  with  a  little  bow.  A  propos  of  what  you 
were  saying,  j^ou  will  never  make  an  Englishman  — 
I  beg  your  pardon,  one  of  your  countrymen  —  real- 
ise anything  unpleasant.  He  prefers  to  keep  his 
head  comfortably  down  in  the  sand.  But  to  leave 
generalities,  when  do  you  think  of  going  to  Nor- 
folk?" 

"  Within  the  next  few  days,"  Dominey  replied. 

"  I  shall  breathe  more  freely  when  you  are  securely 
established  there,"  his  companion  declared.  "  Great 
things  wait  upon  your  complete  acceptance,  in  the 
country  as  well  as  in  town,  as  Sir  Everard  Dominey. 
You  are  sure  that  yoxi  perfectly  understand  your 
position  there  as  regards  your  —  er  —  domestic  af- 
fairs?" 

"  I  understand  a'll  that  is  necessary,"  was  the 
somewhat  stiff  reply. 

"  All  that  is  necessary  is  not  enough,"  Seaman 
rejoined  irritably.  "  I  thought  that  you  had  wormed 
the  whole  story  out  of  that  drunken  Englishman?" 

"  He  told  me  most  of  it.  There  were  just  one  or 
two  points  which  lay  beyond  the  limits  where  ques- 
tioning was  possible." 

Seaman  fro^\Tied  angrily. 

"  In  other  words,"  he   complained,  "  you  remem- 


66  THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

bered  that  you  were  a  gentleman  and  not  that  you 
were  a  German." 

"  The  Englishman  of  a  certain  order,"  Dominey 
pronounced,  "  even  though  he  be  degenerate,  has  a 
certain  obstinacy,  generally  connected  with  one  par- 
ticular thing,  which  nothing  can  break.  We  talked 
together  on  that  last  night  until  morning;  we  drank 
wine  and  brandy.  I  tore  the  story  of  my  own  exile 
from  my  breast  and  laid  it  bare  before  him.  Yet  I 
knew  all  the  time,  as  I  know  now,  that  he  kept  some- 
thing back." 

There  was  a  brief  pause.  During  the  last  few 
minutes  a  certain  tension  had  crept  in  between  the 
two  men.  With  it,  their  personal  characteristics 
seemed  to  have  become  intensified.  Dominey  was 
more  than  ever  the  aristocrat;  Seaman  the  plebeian 
schemer,  unabashed  and  desperately  in  earnest.  He 
leaned  presently  a  little  way  across  the  table.  His 
eyes  had  narrowed  but  they  were  as  bright  as  steel. 
His  teeth  were  more  prominent  than  usual. 

"  You  should  have  dragged  it  from  his  throat," 
he  insisted.  "  It  is  not  your  duty  to  nurse  fine  per- 
sonal feelings.  Heart  and  soul  j^ou  stand  pledged 
to  great  things.  I  cannot  at  this  moment  give  you 
any  idea  what  you  may  not  mean  to  us  after  the 
trouble  has  come,  if  you  are  able  to  play  your  part 
still  in  this  country  as  Everard  Dominey  of  Dominey 
Hall.  I  know  well  enough  that  the  sense  of  per- 
sonal honour  amongst  the  Prussian  aristocracy  is 
the  finest  in  the  world,  and  yet  there  is  not  a  single 
man  of  your  order  who  should  not  be  prepared  to 
lie  or  cheat  for  his  country's  sake.     You  must  fall 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION  67 

into  line  with  your  fellows.  Once  more,  it  is  not 
only  your  task  with  regard  to  TernilofF  which  makes 
your  recognition  as  Everard  Dominey  so  important 
to  us.  It  is  the  things  which  are  to  come  later. — 
Come,  enough  of  this  subject.  I  know  that  you  un- 
derstand. We  grow  too  serious.  How  shall  you 
spend  your  evening  until  eleven  o'clock.''  Remember 
you  did  not  leave  England  an  anchorite.  Sir  Everard. 
You  must  have  your  amusements.  Why  not  try  a 
music  hall.''  " 

"  My  mind  is  too  full  of  other  things,"  Dominey 
objected. 

"  Then  come  with  me  to  Holborn,"  the  little  man 
suggested.  "  It  will  amuse  you.  We  will  part  at, 
the  door,  and  you  shall  sit  at  the  back  of  the  hall, 
out  of  sight.  You  shall  hear  the  haunting  eloquence 
of  your  cousin-in-law.  You  shall  hear  him  trying 
to  warn  the  men  and  women  of  England  of  the  danger 
awaiting  them  from  the  great  and  rapacious  Ger- 
man nation.     What  do  you  S3iy?  " 

"  I  will  come,"  Dominey  replied  in  spiritless  fash- 
ion. "  It  will  be  better  than  a  music  hall,  at  any 
rate.  I  am  not  at  all  sure,  Seaman,  that  the  hard- 
est part  of  my  task  over  here  will  not  be  this  neces- 
sity for  self-imposed  amusements." 

His  companion  struck  the  table  gently  but  impa- 
tiently with  his  clenched  fist. 

"  Man,  you  are  young !  "  he  exclaimed.  "  You  are 
like  the  rest  of  us.  You  carry  your  life  in  your 
hands.  Don't  nourish  past  griefs.  Cast  the  mem- 
ory of  them  away.  There's  nothing  which  narrows 
a  man  more  than  morbidness.     You  have  a  past  which 


68  THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

may  sometimes  bring  the  ghosts  around  you,  but 
remember  the  sin  was  not  wholly  yours,  and  there  is 
an  atonement  which  in  measured  fashion  you  may 
commence  whenever  you  please.  I  have  said  enough 
about  that.  Greatness  and  gaiety  go  hand  in  hand. 
There !  You  see,  I  was  a  philosopher  before  I  be- 
came a  professor  of  propaganda.  Good !  You 
smile.  That  is  something  gained,  at  any  rate.  Now 
we  will  take  a  taxicab  to  Holborn  and  I  will  show 
you  something  really  humorous." 

At  the  entrance  to  the  town  hall,  the  two  men,  at 
Seaman's  instigation,  parted,  making  their  way  in- 
side by  different  doors.  Dominey  found  a  retired 
seat  under  a  balcony,  where  he  was  unlikely  to  be 
recognised  from  the  platform.  Seaman,  on  the  other 
hand,  took  up  a  more  prominent  position  at  the  end 
of  one  of  the  front  rows  of  benches.  The  meeting 
was  by  no  means  overcrowded,  overenthusiastic,  over- 
anything.  There  were  rows  of  empty  benches,  a 
good  many  young  couples  who  seemed  to  have  come 
in  for  shelter  from  the  inclement  night,  a  few  sturdy, 
respectable-looking  tradesmen  who  had  come  because 
it  seemed  to  be  the  respectable  thing  to  do,  a  few 
genuinely  interested,  and  here  and  there,  although 
they  were  decidedly  in  the  minority,  a  sprinkling  of 
enthusiasts.  On  the  platform  was  the  Duke,  with 
civic  dignitaries  on  either  side  of  him ;  a  distinguished 
soldier,  a  Member  of  Parliament,  a  half-dozen  or  so 
of  nondescript  residents  from  the  neighbourhood,  and 
Captain  Bartram.  The  meeting  was  on  the  point  of 
commencement  as  Dominey  settled  down  in  his  corner. 

First  of  all  the  Duke  rose,  and  in  a  few  hackneyed 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION  69 

but  earnest  sentences  introduced  his  young  friend 
Captain  Bartram.  The  latter,  who  sprang  at  once 
into  the  middle  of  his  subject,  was  nervous  and  more 
than  a  little  bitter.  He  explained  that  he  had  re- 
signed his  commission  and  was  therefore  free  to  speak 
his  mind.  He  spoke  of  enormous  military  prepara- 
tions in  Germany  and  a  general  air  of  tense  expecta 
tion.  Against  whom  were  these  preparations.'' 
Without  an  earthly  doubt  against  Germany's  great- 
est rival,  whose  millions  of  young  men,  even  in  this 
hour  of  danger,  preferred  playing  or  watching  foot- 
ball or  cricket  on  Saturday  afternoons  to  realising 
their  duty.  The  conclusion  of  an  ill-pointed  but 
earnest  speech  was  punctuated  by  the  furtive  en- 
trance into  the  hall  of  a  small  boy  selling  evening 
newspapers,  and  there  was  a  temporary  diversion 
from  any  interest  in  the  proceedings  on  the  part  of 
the  younger  portion  of  the  audience,  whilst  they  satis- 
fied themselves  as  to  the  result  of  various  Cup  Ties. 
The  Member  of  Parliament  then  descended  upon 
them  in  a  whirlwind  of  oratory  and  in  his  best  House 
of  Commons  style.  He  spoke  of  black  clouds  and  of 
the  cold  breeze  that  went  before  the  coming  thunder- 
storm. He  pointed  to  the  collapse  of  every  great 
nation  throughout  history  who  had  neglected  the 
arts  of  self-defence.  He  appealed  to  the  youth  of 
the  nation  to  prepare  themselves  to  guard  their 
womenkind,  their  homes,  the  sacred  soil  of  their  coun- 
try, and  at  that  point  was  interrupted  by  a  drowsy 
member  of  the  audience  with  stentorian  lungs,  who 
seemed  just  at  that  moment  to  have  waked  up. 
"What  about  the  Navy,  guv'nor.?  " 


70  THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

The  orator  swept  upon  the  interrupter  in  his  fa- 
mous platform  manner.  The  Navy,  he  declared, 
could  be  trusted  at  all  times  to  do  its  duty,  but  it 
could  not  fight  on  sea  and  land.  Would  the  young 
man  who  had  just  interrupted  do  his,  and  enrol  his 
name  for  drill  and  national  service  that  evening.''  — 
and  so  on.  The  distinguished  soldier,  who  was  suf- 
fering from  a  cold,  fired  off  a  few  husky  sentences 
only,  to  the  tune  of  rounds  of  applause.  The  pro- 
ceedings were  wound  up  by  the  Duke,  who  was  obvi- 
ously, with  the  exception  of  the  distinguished  soldier, 
much  more  in  earnest  than  any  of  them,  and  secured 
upon  the  whole  a  respectful  attention.  He  brought 
in  a  few  historical  allusions,  pleaded  for  a  greater 
spirit  of  earnestness  and  citizenship  amongst  the  men 
of  the  country,  appealed  even  to  the  Avomen  to  de- 
velop their  sense  of  responsibility?  and  sat  down 
amidst  a  little  burst  of  quite  enthusiastic  applause. — 
The  vote  of  thanks  to  the  chairman  was  on  the  point 
of  being  proposed  when  Mr.  Seaman,  standing  up 
in  his  place,  appealed  to  the  chairman  for  permis- 
sion to  say  a  few  words.  The  Duke,  who  had  had 
some  experience  with  Mr.  Seaman  before,  looked 
at  him  severely,  but  the  smile  with  which  Mr. 
Seaman  looked  around  upon  the  audience  was  so 
good-natured  and  attractive,  that  he  had  no  al- 
ternative but  to  assent.  Seaman  scrambled  up  the 
steps  on  to  the  platform,  coughed  apologetically, 
bowed  to  the  Duke,  and  took  possession  of  the  meet- 
ing. After  a  word  or  two  of  compliment  to  the  chair- 
man, he  made  his  confession.  He  was  a  German  citi- 
zen -^   he  was  indeed  one  of  that  bloodthirsty  race. 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION  71 

(Some  laughter.)  He  was  also,  and  it  was  his  excuse 
for  standing  there,  the  founder  and  secretary  of  a 
league,  doubtless  well  known  to  them,  a  league  for 
promoting  more  friendly  relations  between  the  busi- 
ness men  of  Germany  and  England.  Some  of  the 
remarks  which  he  had  heard  that  evening  had  pained 
him  deepl3\  Business  often  took  him  to  Germany, 
and  as  a  German  he  would  be  doing  less  than  his  duty 
if  he  did  not  stand  up  there  and  tell  them  that  the 
average  German  loved  the  Englishman  like  a  brother, 
that  the  object  of  his  life  was  to  come  into  greater 
kinship  with  him,  that  German}^,  even  at  that  moment, 
was  standing  with  hand  outstretched  to  her  relatives 
across  the  North  Sea,  begging  for  a  deeper  sympathy, 
begging  for  a  larger  understanding.  (Applause 
from  the  audience,  murmurs  of  dissent  from  the  plat- 
form.) And  as  to  those  military  preparations  of 
which  they  had  heard  so  much  (with  a  severe  glance 
at  Captain  Bartram),  let  them  glance  for  one  mo- 
ment at  the  frontiers  of  Germany,  let  them  realise 
that  eastwards  Germany  was  being  continually 
pressed  by  an  ancient  and  historic  foe  of  enormous 
strength.  He  would  not  waste  their  time  telling 
them  of  the  political  difficulties  which  Germany  had 
had  to  face  during  the  last  generation.  He  would 
simply  tell  them  this  great  truth, —  the  foe  for  whom 
Germany  was  obliged  to  make  these  great  military 
preparations  was  Russia.  If  ever  they  were  used 
it  would  be  against  Russia,  and  at  Russia's  instiga- 
tion.—  In  his  humble  way  he  was  striving  for  the 
betterment  of  relations  between  the  dearly  beloved 
country  of  his  birth  and  the  equally  beloved  country 


72  THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

of  his  adoption.  Such  meetings  as  these,  instituted, 
as  it  seemed  to  him,  for  the  propagation  of  unfair  and 
unjustified  suspicions,  were  one  of  the  greatest  diffi- 
culties in  his  way.  He  could  not  for  a  moment  doubt 
that  these  gentlemen  upon  the  platform  were  patriots. 
They  would  prove  it  more  profitably,  both  to  them- 
selves and  their  country,  if  they  abandoned  their 
present  prejudiced  and  harmful  campaign  and  be- 
came patrons  of  his  Society. 

Seaman's  little  bow  to  the  chairman  was  good- 
humoured,  tolerant,  a  little  wistful.  The  Duke's  ieir 
words,  prefaced  by  an  indignant  protest  against  the 
intrusion  of  a  German  propagandist  into  an  English 
patriotic  meeting,  did  nothing  to  undo  the  effect  pro- 
duced by  this  undesired  stranger.  When  the  meet- 
ing broke  up,  it  was  doubtful  whether  a  single  ad- 
herent had  been  gained  to  the  cause  of  National 
Service.  The  Duke  went  home  full  of  wrath,  and 
Seaman  chuckled  with  genuine  merriment  as  he 
stepped  into  the  taxi  whish  Dominey  had  secured,  at 
the  corner  of  the  street. 

"  I  promised  you  entertainment,"  he  observed. 
"  Confess  that  I  have  kept  my  word." 

Dominey  smiled  enigmatically.  "  You  certainly 
succeeded  in  making  fools  of  a  number  of  respectable 
and  well-meaning  men." 

"  The  miracle  of  it  extends  further,"  Seaman 
agreed,  "  To-night,  in  its  small  way,  is  a  supreme 
example  of  the  transcendental  follies  of  democracy. 
England  is  being  slowly  choked  and  strangled  with 
too  much  liberty.  She  is  like  a  child  being  over- 
fed  with   jam.     Imagine,   in   our   dear   country,   an 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION  73 

Englishman  being  allowed  to  mount  the  platform  and 
spout,  undisturbed,  English  propaganda  in  deadly 
opposition  to  German  interests.  The  so-called  lib- 
erty of  the  Englishman  is  like  the  cuckoo  in  his  po- 
litical nest.  Countries  must  be  governed.  They 
cannot  govern  themselves.  The  time  of  war  will 
prove  all  that." 

"  Yet  in  any  great  crisis  of  a  nation's  history," 
Dominey  queried,  "  surely  there  is  safety  in  a  multi- 
tude of  counsellors.'^" 

"  There  would  be  always  a  multitude  of  coun- 
sellors," Seaman  replied,  "  in  Germany  as  in  Eng- 
land. The  trouble  for  this  country  is  that  they 
would  be  all  expressed  publicly  and  in  the  press,  each 
view  would  have  its  adherents,  and  the  Government 
be  split  up  into  factions.  In  Germany,  the  real 
destinies  of  the  country  are  decided  in  secret.  There 
are  counsellors  there,  too,  earnest  and  wise  coun- 
sellors, but  no  one  knows  their  varying  views.  All 
that  one  learns  is  the  result,  spoken  through  the  lips 
of  tht  Kaiser,  spoken  once  and  for  all." 

Dominey  was  showing  signs  of  a  rare  interest  in  his 
companion's  conversation.  His  eyes  were  bright,  his 
usually  impassive  features  seemed  to  have  become 
more  mobile  and  strained.  He  laid  his  hand  on  Sea- 
man's arm. 

"  Listen,"  he  said,  "  we  are  in  London,  alone  in  a 
taxicab,  secure  against  any  possible  eavesdropping. 
You  preach  the  advantage  of  our  Kaiser-led  coun- 
try. Do  you  really  believe  that  the  Kaiser  is  the 
man  for  the  task  which  is  coming?  " 

Seaman's   narrow   eyes   glittered.     He    looked   at 


74         THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

his  companion  in  satisfaction.  His  forehead  was 
puckered,  his  eternal  smile  gone.  He  was  the  man  of 
intellect. 

"  So  you  are  waking  up  from  the  lethargy  of 
Africa,  my  friend !  "  he  exclaimed,  "  You  are  be- 
ginning to  think.  As  you  ask  me,  so  shall  I  answer. 
The  Kaiser  is  a  vain,  bombastic  dreamer,  the  great- 
est egotist  who  ever  lived,  with  a  diseased  person- 
ality, a  ceaseless  craving  for  the  limelight.  But  he 
has  also  the  genius  for  government.  I  mean  this: 
he  is  a  splendid  medium  for  the  expression  of  the  brain 
power  of  his  counsellors.  Their  words  will  pass 
through  his  personality,  and  he  will  believe  them 
his.  What  is  more,  they  will  sound  like  his.  He 
will  see  himself  the  knight  in  shining  armour.  All 
Europe  will  bow  down  before  this  self-imagined  Csesar, 
and  no  one  except  we  who  are  behind  Avill  realise  the 
ass's  head.  There  is  no  one  else  in  this  world  whom 
I  have  ever  met  so  well  fitted  to  lead  our  great  na- 
tion on  to  the  destiny  she  deserves. —  And  now,  my 
friend,  to-morrow,  if  you  like,  we  will  speak  of  these 
matters  again.  To-night,  you  have  other  things  to 
think  about.  You  are  going  into  the  great  places 
where  I  never  penetrate.  You  have  an  hour  to 
change  and  prepare.  At  eleven  o'clock  the  Prince 
von  Terniloff  will  expect  you." 


CHAPTER  VII 

There  had  been  a  dinner  party  and  a  very  small 
reception  afterwards  at  the  great  Embass}'  in  Carlton 
House  Terrace.  The  Ambassador,  Prince  Terni- 
lofF,  was  bidding  farewell  to  his  wife's  cousin,  the 
Princess  Eiderstrom,  the  last  of  his  guests.  She 
drew  him  on  one  side  for  a  moment. 

"  Your  Excellency,"  she  said,  "  I  have  been  hop- 
ing for  a  word  with  you  all  the  evening." 

"  And  I  with  you,  dear  Stephanie,"  he  answered. 
"  It  is  very  early.     Let  us  sit  down  for  a  moment." 

He  led  her  towards  a  settee  but  she  shook  her 
head. 

"  You  have  an  appointment  at  half-past  eleven," 
she  said.     "  I  wish  3'ou  to  keep  it." 

"You  know,  then?" 

"  I  lunched  to-day  at  the  Carlton  grill  room.  In 
the  reception-room  I  came  face  to  face  with  Leopold 
von  Ragastein." 

The  Ambassador  made  no  remark.  It  seemed  to 
be  his  wish  to  hear  first  all  that  his  companion  had 
to  say.     After  a  moment's  pause  she  continued: 

"  I  spoke  to  him,  and  he  denied  himself.  To  me ! 
I  think  that  those  were  the  most  terrible  seconds  of 
my  life.  I  have  never  suffered  more.  I  sball  never 
suffer  so  much  again." 


76  THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

"  It  was  most  unfortunate,"  the  Prince  murmured 
sympathetically. 

"  This  evening,"  she  went  on,  "  I  received  a  visit 
from  a  man  whom  I  took  at  first  to  be  an  insignificant 
member  of  the  German  bourgeoisie.  I  learnt  some- 
thing of  his  true  position  later.  He  came  to  me  to 
explain  that  Leopold  was  engaged  in  this  country  on 
secret  service,  that  he  was  passing  under  the  name 
which  he  gave  me, —  Sir  Everard  Dominey,  an  Eng- 
lish baronet,  long  lost  in  Africa.  You  know  of 
this?" 

"  I  know  that  to-night  I  am  receiving  a  visit  from 
Sir  Everard  Dominey." 

"  He  is  to  work  under  your  auspices?  " 

"  By  no  means,"  the  Prince  rejoined  warmly.  "  I 
am  not  favourably  inclined  towards  this  network  of 
espionage.  The  school  of  diplomacy  in  which  I  have 
been  brought  up  tries  to  work  without  such  ignoble 
means." 

"  One  realises  that,"  she  said.  "  Leopold  is  com- 
ing, however,  to-night,  to  pay  his  respects  to  you." 

"  He  is  waiting  for  me  now  in  my  study,"  the  Am- 
bassador asserted. 

"  You  will  do  me  the  service  of  conveying  to  him 
a  message  from  me,"  she  continued.  "  This  man 
Seaman  pointed  out  to  me  the  unwisdom  of  any  asso- 
ciation between  myself  and  Leopold,  under  present 
conditions.  I  listened  to  all  that  he  had  to  say.  I 
reserved  my  decision.  I  have  now  considered  the 
matter.  I  will  compromise  with  necessity.  I  will 
be  content  with  the  acquaintance  of  Sir  Everard 
Dominey,  but  that  I  will  have." 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION  77 

**  For  myself,"  the  Ambassador  reflected,  "  I  do 
not  even  know  what  Von  Ragastein's  mission  over 
here  is,  but  if  in  Berlin  they  decide  that,  for  the  more 
complete  preservation  of  his  incognito,  association 
between  you  and  him  is  undesirable  — " 

She  laid  her  fingers  upon  his  arm. 

"  Stop !  "  she  ordered.  "  1  am  not  of  Berlin.  I 
am  not  a  German.  I  am  not  even  an  Austrian.  I 
am  Hungarian,  and  though  I  am  willing  to  study 
your  interests,  I  am  not  willing  to  place  them  before 
my  own  life.  I  make  terms,  but  I  do  not  surrender. 
Those  terms  I  will  discuss  with  Leopold.  Ah,  be 
kind  to  me !  "  she  went  on,  with  a  sudden  change  of 
voice.  "  Since  those  few  minutes  at  midday  I  have 
lived  in  a  dream.  Only  one  thing  can  quiet  me.  I 
must  speak  to  him,  I  must  decide  with  him  what  I 
will  do.     You  will  help.''  " 

"  An  acquaintance  between  j^ou  and  Sir  Everard 
Dominey,"  he  admitted,  "  is  certainly  a  perfectly 
natural  thing." 

"  Look  at  ir.e,"  she  begged. 

He  turned  and  looked  into  her  face.  Underneath 
her  beautiful  eyes  were  dark  lines ;  there  was  some- 
thing pitiful  about  the  curve  of  her  mouth.  He 
remembered  that  although  she  had  carried  herself 
throughout  the  evening  with  all  the  dignity  which  was 
second  nature  to  her,  he  had  overheard  more  than 
one  sympathetic  comment  upon  her  ^appearance. 

"  I  can  see  that  you  are  suffering,"  he  remarked 
kindly. 

"  My  e^^es  are  hot,  and  inside  I  am  on  fire,"  she 
continued.     "  I  must  speak  to  Leopold.     Freda  has 


78         THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

asked  me  to  stay  and  talk  to  her  for  an  hour.  My 
car  waits.  Arrange  that  he  drives  me  home.  Oh! 
believe  me,  dear  friend,  I  am  a  very  human  woman, 
and  there  is  nothing  in  the  world  to  be  gained  by 
treating  me  as  though  I  were  of  wood  or  stone.  To- 
night I  can  see  him  without  observation.  If  you  re- 
fuse, I  shall  take  other  means.  I  will  make  no  prom- 
ises. I  will  not  even  promise  that  I  will  not  call  out 
before  him  in  the  streets  that  he  is  a  liar,  that  his  life 
is  a  lie.     I  will  call  him  Leopold  von  Ragastein  — " 

"  Hush !  "  he  begged  her.  "  Stephanie,  3'ou  are 
nervous.     I  have  not  yet  answered  your  entreaty." 

"  You  consent?  " 

"  I  consent,"  he  promised.  "  After  our  interview, 
I  shall  bring  the  young  man  to  Freda's  room  and 
present  him.  You  will  be  there.  He  can  offer  you 
his  escort." 

She  suddenly  stooped  and  kissed  his  hand.  An 
immense  relief  was  in  her  face. 

"  Now  I  will  keep  you  no  longer.  Freda  is  wait- 
ing for  me." 

The  Ambassador  strolled  thoughtfully  away  into 
his  own  den  at  the  back  of  the  house,  where  Dominey 
was  waiting  for  him. 

"  I  am  glad  to  see  you,"  the  former  said,  holding 
out  his  hand.  "  For  five  minutes  I  desire  to  talk  to 
your  real  self.  After  that,  for  the  rest  of  your  time 
in  England,  I  will  respect  your  new  identity." 

Dominey  bowed  in  silence.  His  host  pointed  to  the 
sideboard. 

"  Come,"  he  continued,  "  there  are  cigars  and  ciga- 
rettes at  your  elbow,  whisky  and  soda  on  the  side- 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION  79 

board.  Make  yourself  at  home  in  that  chair  there. 
Africa  has  really  changed  you  very  little.  Do  you 
remember  our  previous  meeting,  in  Saxony?  " 
"  I  remember  it  perfectly,  your  Excellency." 
"  His  Majesty  knew  how  to  keep  Court  in  those 
days,"  the  Ambassador  went  on.  "  One  was  tempted 
to  believe  oneself  at  an  English  country  party. 
However,  that  much  of  the  past.  You  know,  of 
course,  that  I  entirely  disapprove  of  your  present 
position  here?  " 

"  I  gathered  as  much,  your  Excellency." 
"  We  will  have  no  reserves  with  one  another,"  the 
Prince  declared,  lighting  a  cigar.  "  I  know  quite 
well  that  you  form  part  of  a  network  of  espionage 
in  this  country  which  I  consider  wholly  unnecessary. 
That  is  simply  a  question  of  method.  I  have  no 
doubt  that  you  are  here  with  the  same  object  as 
I  am,  the  object  which  the  Kaiser  has  declared  to 
me  with  his  own  lips  is  nearest  to  his  heart  —  to  ce- 
ment the  bonds  of  friendship  between  Germany  and 
England." 

"  You  believe,  sir,  that  that  is  possible?  " 
"  I  am  convinced  of  it,"  was  the  earnest  reply. 
"  I  do  not  know  what  the  exact  nature  of  your  work 
over  here  is  to  be,  but  I  am  glad  to  have  an  oppor- 
tunity of  putting  before  you  my  convictions.  I  be- 
lieve that  in  Berlin  the  character  of  some  of  the 
leading  statesmen  here  has  been  misunderstood  and 
misrepresented.  I  find  on  all  sides  of  me  an  earnest 
and  sincere  desire  for  peace.  I  have  convinced  my- 
self that  there  is  not  a  single  statesman  in  this  coun- 
try who  is  desirous  of  war  with  Germany." 


8o  THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

Dominey  was  listening  intently,  with  the  air  of 
one  who  hears  unexpected  things. 

"  But,  your  Excellencj',"  he  ventured,  "  what  about 
the  matter  from  our  point  of  view?  There  are  a 
great  many  in  our  country,  whom  you  and  I  know 
of,  who  look  forward  to  a  war  with  England  as  inevi- 
table. Germany  must  become,  we  all  believe,  the 
greatest  empire  in  the  world.  She  must  climb  there, 
as  one  of  our  friends  once  said,  with  her  foot  upon 
the  neck  of  the  British  lion." 

"  You  are  out  of  date,"  the  Ambassador  declared 
earnestly.  "  I  see  now  why  they  sent  you  to  me. 
Those  days  have  passed.  There  is  room  in  the  world 
for  Great  Britain  and  for  Germany.  The  disintegra- 
tion of  Russia  in  the  near  future  is  a  certainty.  It 
is  eastward  that  we  must  look  for  any  great  exten- 
sion of  territory." 

"  These  things  have  been  decided.''  " 

"  Absolutely !  The3^  form  the  soul  of  ni}^  mission 
here.  My  mandate  is  one  of  peace,  and  tlie  more  I 
see  of  English  statesmen  and  the  more  I  understand 
the  British  outlook,  the  more  sanguine  I  am  as  to 
the  success  of  my  efforts.  This  is  why  all  this  out- 
side espionage  with  which  Seaman  is  so  largely  con- 
cerned seems  to  me  at  times  unwise  and  unneces- 
sary." 

"  And  my  own  mission.''  "  Dominey  enquired. 

"  Its  nature,"  the  Prince  replied,  "  is  not  as  3'et 
divulged,  but  if,  as  I  have' been  given  to  understand, 
it  is  to  become  closely  connected  with  my  own,  then  I 
am  verj^  sure  you  will  presently  find  that  its  text 
also  is  Peace." 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION  8i 

Dorainey  rose  to  his  feet,  prepared  to  take  his 
leave. 

"  These  matters  will  be  solved  for  us,"  he  mur- 
mured. 

"  There  is  just  one  word  more,  on  a  somewhat 
more  private  matter,"  TernilofF  said  in  an  altered 
tone.     "  The  Princess  Eiderstrom  is  upstairs." 

"In  this  house?" 

"  Waiting  for  a  word  with  you.  Our  friend  Sea- 
man has  been  with  her  this  evening.  I  understand 
that  she  is  content  to  subscribe  to  the  present  situa- 
tion.     She  makes  one  condition,  however." 

"And  that.?" 

"  She  insists  upon  it  that  I  present  Sir  Everard 
Dominey." 

The  latter  did  not  attempt  to  conceal  his  perturba- 
tion. 

"  I  need  scarcely  point  out  to  3'ou,  sir,"  he  pro- 
tested, "  that  any  association  between  the  Princess 
and  myself  is  likely  to  largely  increase  the  difficul- 
ties of  my  position  here." 

The  Ambassador  sighed. 

"  I  quite  appreciate  that,"  he  admitted.  "  Both 
Seaman  and  I  have  endeavoured  to  reason  with  her, 
but,  as  3'ou  are  doubtless  aware,  the  Princess  is  a 
woman  of  very  strong  will.  She  is  also  very  power- 
fully placed  here,  and  it  is  the  urgent  desire  of  the 
Court  at  Berlin  to  placate  in  every  way  the  Hun- 
garian nobilit3\  You  will  understand,  of  course, 
that  I  speak  from  a  political  point  of  view  only.  I 
cannot  ignore  the  fact  of  your  unfortunate  relations 
with  the  late  Prince,  but  in  considering  the  present 


82  THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

position  you  will,  I  am  sure,  remember  the  greater 
interests." 

His  visitor  was  silent  for  a  moment. 

"You  say  that  the  Princess  is  waiting  here?" 

"  She  is  with  my  wife  and  asks  for  your  escort 
home.  My  wife  also  looks  forward  to  the  pleasure 
of  renewing  her  acquaintance  with  you." 

"  I  shall  accept  your  Excellency's  guidance  in  the 
matter,"  Dominey  decided. 

The  Princess  TernilofF  was  a  woman  of  world  cul- 
ture, an  artist,  and  still  an  extremely  attractive 
woman.  She  received  the  visitor  whom  her  husband 
brought  to  her  in  a  very  charming  little  room  fur- 
nished after  the  style  of  the  simplest  French  period, 
and  she  did  her  best  to  relieve  the  strain  of  what  she 
understood  must  be  a  somewhat  trying  moment. 

"  We  are  delighted  to  welcome  you  to  London,  Sir 
Everard  Dominey,"  she  said,  taking  his  hand,  "  and 
I  hope  that  we  shall  often  see  you  here.  I  want  to 
present  you  to  my  cousin,  who  is  interested  in  you, 
I  must  tell  you  frankly,  because  of  your  likeness  to 
a  very  dear  friend  of  hers.  Stephanie,  this  is  Sir 
Everard  Dominey  —  the  Princess  Eiderstrom." 

Stephanie,  who  was  seated  upon  the  couch  from 
which  her  cousin  had  just  risen,  held  out  her  hand 
to  Dominey,  who  made  her  a  very  low  and  formal 
bow.  Her  gown  was  of  unrelieved  black.  Wonder- 
ful diamonds  flashed  around  her  neck,  and  she  wore 
also  a  tiara  fashioned  after  the  Hungarian  style,  a 
little  low  on  her  forehead.  Her  manner  and  tone 
still  indicated  some  measure  of  rebellion  against  the 
situation. 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION  83 

"  You  have  forgiven  me  for  my  insistence  this 
morning?  "  she  asked.  "  It  was  hard  for  me  to  be- 
lieve that  you  were  not  indeed  the  person  for  whom 
I  mistook  you." 

"  Other  people  have  spoken  to  me  of  the  likeness," 
Dominey  replied.  "  It  is  a  matter  of  regret  to  me 
that  I  can  claim  to  be  no  more  than  a  simple  Norfolk 
baronet." 

"  Without  any  previous  experience  of  European 
Courts?" 

"  Without  any  at  all." 

"  Your  German  is  wonderfully  pure  for  an  un- 
travelled  man." 

"  Languages  were  the  sole  accomplishment  I 
brought  away  from  my  misspent  school  days." 

"  You  are  not  going  to  bury  yourself  in  Nor- 
folk, Sir  Everard?  "  the  Princess  Terniloff  enquired. 

"  Norfolk  is  very  near  London  these  days,"  Dom- 
iney replied,  "  and  I  have  experienced  more  than  my 
share  of  solitude  during  the  last  few  years.  I  hope 
to  spend  a  portion  of  my  time  here." 

"  You  must  dine  with  us  one  night,"  the  Princess 
insisted,  "  and  tell  us  about  Africa.  My  husband 
would  be  so  interested." 

"  You  are  very  kind." 

Stephanie  rose  slowly  to  her  feet,  leaned  grace- 
fully over  and  kissed  her  hostess  on  both  cheeks,  and 
submitted  her  hand  to  the  Prince,  who  raised  it  to 
his  lips.     Then  she  turned  to  Dominey. 

"Will  you  be  so  kind  as  to  see  me  home?"  she 
asked.  "  Afterwards,  my  car  can  take  you  on  wher- 
ever you  choose  to  ^o." 


84  THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

"  I  shall  be  very  happ3s"  Dominey  assented. 

He,  too,  made  his  farewells.  A  servant  in  the 
hall  handed  him  his  hat  and  coat,  and  he  took  his 
place  in  the  car  by  Stephanie's  side.  She  touched 
the  electric  switch  as  they  glided  off.  The  car  was 
in  darkness. 

"  I  think,"  she  murmured,  "  that  I  could  not  have 
borne  another  moment  of  this  juggling  with  words. 
Leopold  ■ —  we  are  alone  !  " 

He  caught  the  flash  of  her  jewels,  the  soft  bril- 
liance of  her  eyes  as  she  leaned  towards  him.  His 
voice  sounded,   even   to  himself,  harsh   and  strident. 

"  You  mistake.  Princess.  My  name  is  not  Leo- 
pold.     I  am  Everard  Dominey." 

"  Oh,  I  know  that  you  are  very  obstinate,"  she 
said  softly,  "  very  obstinate  and  very  devoted  to  3^our 
marvellous  country,  but  you  have  a  soul,  Leopold ; 
you  know  that  there  are  human  duties  as  great  as 
any  your  country  ever  imposed  upon  you.  You 
know  what  I  look  for  from  you,  what  I  must  find 
from  you  or  go  down  into  hell,  ashamed  and  miser- 
able." 

He  felt  his  throat  suddenly  dry. 

"  Listen,"  he  muttered,  "  until  the  hour  strikes, 
I  must  remain  to  3^ou  as  to  the  world,  alone  or  in  a 
crowd  —  Everard  Dominey.  There  is  one  way  and 
one  way  only  of  carrying  through  my  appointed 
task." 

She  gave  a  little  hysterical  sob. 

"  Wait,"  she  begged.  "  I  will  answer  you  in  a 
moment.     Give  me  your  hand." 

He  opened  the  fingers  which  he  had  kept  clenched 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION  85 

together,  and  he  felt  the  liot  grip  of  her  hand,  hold- 
ing his  passionately,  drawing  it  towards  her  until 
the  fingers  of  her  other  hand,  too,  fell  upon  it.  So 
she  sat  for  several  moments. 

"  Leopold,"  she  continued  presently,  "  I  under- 
stand. You  are  afraid  that  I  shall  betray  our  love. 
You  have  reason.  I  am  full  of  impulses  and  passion, 
as  you  know,  but  I  have  restraint.  What  we  are  to 
one  another  when  we  are  alone,  no  soul  in  this  world 
need  know.  I  will  be  careful.  I  swear  it.  I  will 
never  even  look  at  you  as  tliough  m}'  heart  ached  for 
your  notice,  when  we  are  in  the  presence  of  other 
people.  You  shall  come  and  see  me  as  seldom  as 
you  wish.  I  will  receive  you  alone  only  as  often  as 
you  sa}'.  But  don't  treat  me  like  this.  Tell  me 
you  have  come  back.  Throw  off  this  hideous  mask, 
if  it  be  only  for  a  moment." 

He  sat  quite  still,  although  her  hands  were  tear- 
ing at  his,  her  lips  and  eyes  beseeching  him. 

"  Whatever  may  come  afterwards,"  he  pronounced 
inexorabl}',  "  until  the  time  arrives  I  am  Everard 
Dominey.  I  cannot  take  advantage  of  3'our  feelings 
for  Leopold  von  Ragastein.  He  is  not  here.  He 
is  in  Africa.  Perhaps  some  day  he  will  come  back 
to  3'ou  and  be  all  that  you  wish." 

She  flung  his  hands  away.  He  felt  her  eyes  burn- 
ing into  his,  this  time  with  something  more  like 
furious  curiosity. 

"  Let  me  look  at  you,"  she  cried.  "  Let  me  be 
sure.  Is  this  just  some  ghastly  change,  or  are  you 
an  impostor.''  My  heart  is  growing  chilled.  Are 
you  the  man  I  have  waited  for  all  these  years?     Are 


86         THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

you  the  man  to  whom  I  have  given  my  lips,  for  whose 
sake  I  offered  up  my  reputation  as  a  sacrifice,  the 
man  who  slew  my  husband  and  left  me?  " 

"  I  was  exiled,"  he  reminded  her,  his  own  voice 
shaking  with  emotion.  "  You  know  that.  So  far  as 
other  things  are  concerned,  I  am  exiled  now.  I  am 
working  out  my  expiation." 

She  leaned  back  in  her  seat  with  an  air  of  ex- 
haustion. Her  ej'es  closed.  Then  the  car  drove  in 
through  some  iron  gates  and  stopped  in  front  of  her 
door,  which  was  immediately  opened.  A  footman 
hurried  out.      She  turned  to  Dominey. 

"  You  will  not  enter,"  she  pleaded,  "  for  a  short 
time.?" 

"  If  you  will  permit  me  to  pay  you  a  visit,  it  will 
give  me  great  pleasure,"  he  answered  formally.  "  I 
will  call,  if  I  may,  on  my  return  from  Norfolk." 

She  gave  him  her  hand  with  a  set  smile. 

"  Let  my  people  take  you  wherever  you  want  to 
go,"  she  invited,  "  and  remember,"  she  added,  drop- 
ping her  voice,  "  I  do  not  admit  defeat.  This  is 
not  the  last  word  between  us." 

She  disappeared  in  some  state,  escorted  through 
the  great  front  door  of  one  of  London's  few  palaces 
by  an  attractive  major-domo  and  footman  in  the 
livery  of  her  House.  Dominey  drove  back  to  the 
Carlton,  where  in  the  lounge  he  found  the  band  play- 
ing, crowds  still  sitting  around,  amongst  whom  Sea- 
man was  conspicuous,  in  his  neat  dinner  clothes  and 
with  his  cherubic  air  of  inviting  attention  from  pros- 
pective new  acquaintances.  He  greeted  Dominey  en- 
thusiastically. 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION  87 

"  Come,"  he  exclaimed,  "  I  am  weary  of  solitude ! 
I  have  seen  scarcely  a  face  that  I  recognise.  My 
tongue  is  parched  with  inaction.  I  like  to  talk,  and 
there  has  been  no  one  to  talk  to.  I  might  as  well 
have  opened  up  my  little  house  in  Forest  Hill." 

"  I'll  talk  to  you  if  you  like,"  Dominey  promised 
a  little  grimly,  glancing  at  the  clock  and  hastily 
ordering  a  whisky  and  soda.  "  I  will  b.gin  by  tell- 
ing you  this,"  he  added,  lowering  his  tone.  "  I  have 
discovered  the  greatest  danger  I  shall  have  to  face 
during  my  enterprise." 

"What  is  that?" 

"  A  woman  —  the  Princess  Eiderstrom." 

Seaman  lit  one  of  his  inevitable  cigars  and  threw 
one  of  his  short,  fat  legs  over  the  other.  He  gazed 
for  a  moment  with  an  air  of  satisfaction  at  his  small 
foot,  neatly  encased  in  court  shoes. 

"  You  surprise  me,"  he  confessed.  "  I  have  con- 
sidered the  matter.  I  cannot  see  any  great  diffi- 
culty." 

"  Then  you  must  be  closing  your  eyes  to  it  wil- 
fuU}^,"  Dominey  retorted,  "  or  else  you  are  wholly 
ignorant  of  the  Princess's  temperament  and  disposi- 
tion." 

"  I  believe  I  appreciate  both,"  Seaman  replied, 
"  but  I  still  do  not  see  any  peculiar  difficulty  in  the 
situation.  As  an  English  nobleman  you  have  a  per- 
fect right  to  enjoy  the  friendship  of  the  Princess 
Eiderstrom." 

"  And  I  thought  you  Avere  a  man  of  sentiment !  " 
Domincj'  scoffed.  "  I  thought  you  understood  a  lit- 
tle of  human  nature.      Stephanie  Eiderstrom  is  Hun- 


88  THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

garian  born  and  bred.  Even  race  has  never  taught 
her  self-restraint.  You  don't  seriously  suppose  that 
after  all  these  3'ears,  after  all  she  has  suffered  —  and 
she  has  suffered  —  she  is  going  to  be  content  with  an 
emasculated  form  of  friendship?  I  talk  to  you  with- 
out reserve,  Seaman.  She  has  made  it  ver}'^  plain  to- 
night that  she  is  going  to  be  content  with  nothing  of 
the  sort." 

"  What  takes  place  between  you  in  private,"  Sea- 
man began  — 

"  Rubbish  !  "  his  companion  interrupted.  "  The 
Princess  is  an  impulsive,  a  passionate,  a  distinctly 
primitive  woman,  with  a  good  deal  of  the  wild  animal 
in  her  still.  Plots  or  political  necessities  are  not 
likely  to  count  a  snap  of  the  fingers  with  her." 

"  But  surely,"  Seaman  protested,  "  she  must  un- 
derstand that  your  country  has  claimed  you  for  a 
great  work.''  " 

Dominey  shook  his  head. 

"  She  is  not  a  German,"  he  pointed  out.  "  On  the 
contrary,  like  a  great  many  other  Hungarians,  I 
think  she  rather  dislikes  Germany  and  Germans. 
Her  only  concern  is  the  personal  question  between 
us.  She  considers  that  every  moment  of  the  rest 
of  my  life  should  be  devoted  to  her." 

"  Perhaps  it  is  as  well,"  Seaman  remarked,  "  that 
you  have  arranged  to  go  down  to-morrow  to  Dom- 
iney. I  will  think  out  a  scheme.  Something  must 
be  dooe  to  pacify  her." 

The  lights  were  being  put  out.  The  two  men  rose 
a  Mttle  unwillingly.  Dominey  felt  singularly  indis- 
posed for  sleep,  but  anxious  at  the  same  time  to  get 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION  89 

rid  of  his  companion.  They  strolled  into  the  dark- 
ened hall  of  the  hotel  together. 

"  I  will  deal  with  this  matter  for  you  as  well  as 
I  can,"  Seaman  promised.  "  To  my  mind,  your 
greatest  difficulty  will  be  encountered  to-morrow. 
You  know  what  you  have  to  deal  with  down  at  Dom- 
iney." 

Dominey's  face  was  very  set  and  grave. 

"  I  am  prepared,"  he  said. 

Seaman  still  hesitated. 

"  Do  3'ou  remember,"  he  asked,  "  that  when  we 
talked  over  your  plans  at  Cape  Town,  you  showed 
me  a  picture  of  —  of  Lady  Dominey  ?  " 

"  I  remember." 

"  May  I  have  one  more  look  at  it?  " 

Domine}',  with  fingers  that  trembled  a  little,  drew 
from  the  breast  pocket  of  his  coat  a  leather  case,  and 
from  that  a  worn  picture.  The  two  men  looked  at 
it  side  by  side  beneath  one  of  the  electric  standards 
which  had  been  left  burning.  The  face  was  the  face 
of  a  girl,  almost  a  child,  and  the  great  eyes  seemed 
filled  with  a  queer,  appealing  light.  There  was  some- 
thing of  the  same  suggestion  to  be  found  in  the  lips, 
a  certain  helplessness,  an  appeal  for  love  and  pro- 
tection to  some  stronger  being. 

Seaman  turned  away  with  a  little  grunt,  and  com- 
mented: 

"  Permitting  myself  to  reassume  for  a  moment  or 
two  the  ordinary  sentiments  of  an  ordinary  human 
being,  I  would  sooner  have  a  dozen  of  your  Prin- 
cesses to  deal  with  than  the  original  of  that  picture." 


CHAPTER  VIII 

"  Your  ancestral  home,"  JNIr.  Mangan  observed, 
as  the  car  turned  the  first  bend  in  the  grass-grown 
avenue  and  Dominey  Hall  came  into  sight. 
"  Damned  fine  house,  too  !  " 

His  companion  made  no  reply.  A  stonn  had  come 
up  during  the  last  few  minutes,  and,  as  though  he 
felt  the  cold,  he  had  dragged  his  hat  over  his  eyes  and 
turned  his  coat  collar  up  to  his  ears.  The  house, 
with  its  great  double  front,  was  now  clearly  visible 
—  the  time-worn,  Elizabethan,  red  brick  outline  that 
faced  the  park  southwards,  and  the  stone-supported, 
grim  and  weather-stained  back  which  confronted  the 
marshes  and  the  sea.  Mr.  Mangan  continued  to 
make  amiable  conversation. 

"  We  have  kept  the  old  place  weathertight,  some- 
how or  other,"  he  said,  "  and  I  don't  think  you'll 
miss  the  timber  much.  We've  taken  it  as  far  as 
possible  from  the  outlying  woods." 

"  Any  from  the  Black  Wood.''  "  Dominey  asked, 
without  turning  his  head. 

Mr.  Mangan  shook  his  head. 

"  Not  a  stump,"  he  replied,  "  and  for  a  very  ex- 
cellent reason.  Not  one  of  the  woodmen  would  ever 
go  near  the  place." 

"  The  superstition  remains,  then?  " 

"  The    villagers    are    absolutely    rabid    about    it. 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION  91 

There  are  at  least  a  dozen  who  declare  that  they 
have  seen  the  ghost  of  Roger  Unthank,  and  a  score 
or  more  who  will  swear  by  all  that  is  holy  that  they 
have  heard  his  call  at  night." 

"  Does  he  still  select  the  park  and  the  terrace  out- 
side the  house  for  his  midnight  perambulations?  " 
Dominey  enquired. 

The  lawyer  hesitated. 

"  The  idea  is,  I  believe,"  he  said,  "  that  the  ghost 
makes  his  way  out  from  the  wood  and  sits  on  the 
terrace  underneath  Lady  Dominey's  window.  All 
bunkum,  of  course,  but  I  can  assure  you  that  every 
servant  and  caretaker  we've  had  there  has  given  no- 
tice within  a  month.  That  is  the  sole  reason  why 
I  haven't  ventured  to  recommend  long  ago  that  you 
should  get  rid  of  Mrs.  Unthank." 

"  She  is  still  in  attendance  upon  Lady  Dominey, 
then?" 

"  Simply  because  we  couldn't  get  any  one  else  to 
stay  there,"  the  lawyer  explained,  "  and  her  lady- 
ship positively  declines  to  leave  the  Hall.  Between 
ourselves,  I  think  it's  time  a  change  was  made.  We'll 
have  a  chat  after  dinner,  if  you've  no  objection. — 
You  see,  we've  left  all  the  trees  in  the  park,"  he  went 
on,  with  an  air  of  satisfaction.  "  Beautiful  place, 
this,  in  the  springtime.  I  was  down  last  May  for  a 
night,  and  I  never  saw  such  buttercups  in  my  life. 
The  cows  here  were  almost  up  to  their  knees  in  pas- 
ture, and  the  bluebells  in  the  home  woods  were  won- 
derful. The  whole  of  the  little  painting  colony  down 
at  Flankney  turned  themselves  loose  upon  the  place 
last  spring." 


92  THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

"  Some  of  the  old  wall  is  down,  I  see,"  Dominey  re- 
marked with  a  frown,  as  he  gazed  towards  the  en- 
closed kitchen  garden, 

Mr.  Mangan  was  momentarily  surprised, 

"  That  wall  has  been  down,  to  ni}'  knowledge,  for 
twent}'  years,"  he  reminded  his  companion. 

Dominey  nodded.  "  I  had  forgotten,"  he  mut- 
tered. 

"  We  wrote  you,  by  the  by,"  the  lawyer  continued, 
"  suggesting  the  sale  of  one  or  two  of  the  pictures, 
to  form  a  fund  for  repairs,  but  thank  goodness  j^ou 
didn't  reply !  We'll  have  some  workpeople  here  as 
soon  as  you've  decided  what  you'd  like  done.  I'm 
afraid,"  he  added,  as  they  turned  in  through  some 
iron  gates  and  entered  the  last  sweep  in  front  of  the 
house,  "  3^ou  won't  find  many  familiar  faces  to  wel- 
come you.  There's  Loveybond,  the  gardener,  whom 
you  would  scarcely  remember,  and  Middleton,  the 
head  keeper,  who  has  really  been  a  godsend  so  far  as 
the  game  is  concerned.  No  one  at  all  indoors,  except 
—  Mrs.  Unthank." 

The  car  drew  up  at  that  moment  in  front  of  the 
great  porch.  There  was  nothing  in  the  shape  of  a 
reception.  The}'  had  even  to  ring  the  bell  before 
the  door  was  opened  by  a  manservant  sent  down  a 
few  days  previously  from  town.  In  the  background, 
v.'earing  a  brown  velveteen  coat,  with  breeches  and 
leggings  of  corduroy,  stood  an  elderly  man  with 
white  side  whiskers  and  skin  as  brown  as  a  piece  of 
parchment,  leaning  heavily  upon  a  long  ash  stick. 
Half  a  dozen  maidservants,  new  importations,  were 
visible   in   the  background,   and   a   second   man   Avas 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION  93 

taking  possession  of  the  luggage.  Mr.  Mangan  took 
charge  of  the  proceedings. 

"  jNIiddleton,"  he  said,  resting  his  hand  upon  the 
old  man's  shoulder,  "  here's  3'our  master  come  back 
again.  Sir  Everard  was  very  pleased  to  hear  that 
3'ou  were  still  here;  and  you,  Loveybond." 

The  old  man  grasped  the  hand  which  Dominey 
stretched  out  with  both  of  his. 

"  I'm  right  glad  you're  back  again,  Squire,"  he 
said,  looking  at  him  with  curious  intentness,  "  and 
3''et  the  words  of  welcome  stick  in  my  throat." 

"  Sorry  you  feel  like  that  about  it,  Middlcton," 
Domine}^  said  pleasantly.  "  What  is  the  trouble 
about  m^'  coming  back,  eh.''  " 

"  That's  no  trouble.  Squire,"  the  old  man  replied. 
"  That's  a  joy  —  leastways  to  us.  It's  what  it  may 
turn  out  to  be  for  j^ou  which  makes  one  hold  back 
like." 

Dominey  drew  himself  more  than  ever  erect  —  a 
commanding  figure  in  the  little  group. 

"  You  will  feel  better  about  it  when  we  have  had 
a  day  or  two  with  the  pheasants,  JNIiddleton,"  he  said 
reassuringly.  "  You  have  not  changed  much,  Lovey- 
bond," he  added,  turning  to  the  man  who  had  fallen 
a  little  into  the  background,  very  stiff  and  uncom- 
fortable in  his  Sunday  clothes. 

"  I  thankee,  Squire,"  the  latter  replied  a  little 
awkwardly,  with  a  motion  of  his  hand  towards  his 
forehead.  "  I  can't  say  the  same  for  you,  sir. 
Them  furrin  parts  has  filled  j'ou  out  and  hardened 
you.  I'll  take  the  liberty  of  saying  that  I  should 
never  have  recognised  3'ou,  sir,  and  that's  sure." 


94         THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

"  This  is  Parkins,"  Mr.  ^Nlangan  went  on,  pushing 
his  way  once  more  into  the  foreground,  "  the  butler 
whom  I  engaged  in  London.     And  — " 

There  was  a  queer  and  instantaneous  silence.  The 
little  group  of  maidservants,  who  had  been  exchang- 
ing whispered  confidences  as  to  their  new  master's 
appearance,  were  suddenly  dumb.  All  eyes  were 
turned  in  one  direction.  A  woman  whose  advent  had 
been  unperceived,  but  who  had  evidently  issued  from 
one  of  the  recesses  of  the  hall,  stood  suddenly  before 
them  all.  She  was  as  thin  as  a  lath,  dressed  in  severe 
black,  with  grey  hair  brushed  back  from  her  head  and 
not  even  a  white  collar  at  her  neck.  Her  face  was 
long  and  narrow,  her  features  curiously  large,  her 
eyes  filled  with  anger.  She  spoke  very  slowly,  but 
with  some  trace  in  her  intonation  of  a  north-country 
dialect. 

"  There's  no  place  in  this  house  for  you.  Everard 
Dominey,"  she  said,  standing  in  front  ot  him  as 
though  to  bar  his  progress.  "  I  wrote  last  night  to 
stop  you,  but  you've  shown  indecent  haste  in  com- 
ing. There's  no  place  here  for  a  murderer.  Get 
back  where  you  came  from,  back  to  your  hiding." 

"  My  good  woman  !  "  Mangan  gasped.  "  This  is 
really  too  much  !  " 

"  I've  not  come  to  bandy  words  with  lawyers,"  the 
woman  retorted.  "  I've  come  to  speak  to  him.  Can 
you  face  me,  Everard  Dominey,  you  who  murdered 
my  son  and  made  a  madwoman  of  your  wife.f^  " 

The  lawyer  would  have  answered  her,  but  Dominey 
waved  him  on  one  side. 

"  Mrs.  Unthank,"  he  said  sternly,  "  return  to  your 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION  95 

duties  at  once,  and  understand  that  this  house  is 
mine,  to  enter  or  leave  when  I  choose." 

She  was  speechless  for  a  moment,  amazed  at  the 
firmness  of  his  words. 

"  The  house  may  be  yours,  Sir  Everard  Dominey," 
she  said  threateningly,  "  but  there's  one  part  of 
it  at  least  in  which  you  won't  dare  to  show  your- 
self." 

"  You  forget  yourself,  woman,"  he  replied  coldly. 
"  Be  so  good  as  to  return  to  your  mistress  at  once, 
announce  my  coming,  and  say  that  I  wait  only  for 
her  permission  before  presenting  myself  in  her  apart- 
ments." 

The  woman  laughed,  unpleasantly,  horriblj^  Her 
eyes  were  fixed  upon  Dominey  curiously. 

"  Those  are  brave  words,"  she  said.  "  You've 
come  back  a  harder  man.     Let  me  look  at  you." 

She  moved  a  foot  or  two  to  where  the  light  was 
better.  Very  slowly  a  frown  developed  upon  her  fore- 
head. The  longer  she  looked,  the  less  assured  she 
became. 

"  There  are  things  in  your  face  I  miss,"  she  mut- 
tered. 

Mr.  Mangan  was  glad  of  an  opportunity  of  as- 
serting himself. 

"  The  fact  is  scarcely  important,  Mrs.  Unthank," 
he  said  angrily.  "  If  you  will  allow  me  to  give  you 
a  word  of  advice,  you  will  treat  your  master  with  the 
respect  to  which  his  position  here  entitles  him." 

Once  more  the  woman  blazed  up. 

"  Respect !  What  respect  have  I  for  the  murderer 
of  my  son.''     Respect !     Well,  if  he  stays  here  against 


96  THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

m}^  bidding,  perhaps  her  ladyship  will  show  him  what 
respect  means." 

She  turned  around  and  disappeared.  Every  one 
began  bustling  about  the  luggage  and  talking  at 
once.  Mr.  Mangan  took  his  patron's  arm  and  led 
him  across  the  hall. 

"  My  dear  Sir  Everard,"  he  said  anxiously,  "  I  am 
most  distressed  that  this  should  have  occurred.  I 
thought  that  the  woman  would  probably  be  sullen,  but 
I  had  no  idea  that  she  would  dare  to  attempt  such  an 
outrageous  proceeding." 

"  She  is  still,  I  presume,  the  only  companion  whom 
Lady  Dominey  will  tolerate.''  "  Dominey  enquired  with 
a  sigh. 

"  I  fear  so,"  the  law3^er  admitted.  "  Nevertheless 
we  must  see  Doctor  Harrison  in  the  morning.  It 
must  be  understood  distinctly  that  if  she  is  suffered 
to  remain,  she  adopts  an  entirely  different  attitude. 
I  never  heard  anything  so  preposterous  in  all  my 
life.  I  shall  pay  her  a  visit  myself  after  dinner. — 
You  will  feel  quite  at  home  here  in  the  library.  Sir 
Everard,"  Mr.  Mangan  went  on,  throwing  open  the 
door  of  a  very  fine  apartment  on  the  seaward  side  of 
the  house.  "  Grand  view  from  these  windows,  espe- 
cially since  we've  had  a  few  of  the  trees  cut  down.  I 
see  that  Parkins  has  set  out  the  sherry.  Cocktails, 
I'm  afraid,  are  an  institution  you  will  have  to  inaugu- 
rate down  here.  You'll  be  grateful  to  me  when  I  tell 
you  one  thing,  Sir  Everard.  We've  been  hard 
pressed  more  than  once,  but  we  haven't  sold  a  single 
bottle  of  wine  out  of  the  cellars." 

Dominey  accepted  the  glass  of  sherry  which  the 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION  97 

lawyer  had  poured  out  but  made  no  movement  to- 
wards drinking  it.  He  seemed  during  the  last  few 
minutes  to  have  been  wrapped  in  a  brown  study. 

"  Mangan,"  he  asked  a  little  abuptly,  "  is  it  the 
popular  belief  down  here  that  I  killed  Roger  Un- 
thank?  " 

The  lawyer  set  down  the  decanter  and  coughed. 

"  A  plain  answer,"  Dominey  insisted. 

Mr.  Mangan  adapted  himself  to  the  situation.  He 
was  beginning  to  understand  his  client, 

"  I  am  perfectly  certain,  Sir  Everard,"  he  con- 
fessed, "  that  there  isn't  a  soul  in  these  parts  who 
isn't  convinced  of  it.  They  believe  that  there  was  a 
fight  and  that  you  had  the  best  of  it." 

"  Forgive  me,"  Dominey  continued,  "  if  I  seem  to 
ask  unnecessary  questions.  Remember  that  I  spent 
the  first  portion  of  my  exile  in  Africa  in  a  very  deter- 
mined eflfort  to  blot  out  the  memory  of  everything 
that  had  happened  to  me  earlier  in  life.  So  that  is 
the  popular  belief?  " 

"  The  popular  belief  seems  to  march  fairly  well 
with  the  facts,"  ]Mr.  Mangan  declared,  wielding  the 
decanter  again  in  view  of  his  client's  more  reasonable 
manner.  "  At  the  time  ot  your  unfortunate  visit  to 
the  Hall  Miss  Felbrigg  was  living  practically  alone 
at  the  Vicarage  after  her  uncle's  sudden  death  there, 
Avith  Mrs.  Unthank  as  housekeeper.  Roger  Un- 
thank's  infatuation  for  her  was  patent  to  the  whole 
neighbourhood  and  a  source  of  great  annoyance  to 
INIiss  Felbrigg.  I  am  convinced  that  at  no  time  did 
Lady  Dominey  give  the  3'oung  man  the  slightest  en- 
couragement." 


98  THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

"  Has  any  one  ever  believed  the  contrary?  "  Domi- 
ney  demanded. 

"  Not  a  soul,"  was  the  emphatic  reply.  "  Never- 
theless, when  you  came  down,  fell  in  love  with  Miss 
Felbrigg  and  carried  her  off,  every  one  felt  that  there 
would  be  trouble." 

"  Roger  Unthank  was  a  lunatic,"  Dominey  pro- 
nounced deliberately.  "  His  behaviour  from  the  first 
was  the  behaviour  of  a  madman." 

"  The  Eugene  Aram  type  of  village  schoolmaster 
gradually  drifting  into  positive  insanity,"  Mangan 
acquiesced.  "  So  far,  every  one  is  agreed.  The 
mystery  began  when  he  came  back  from  his  holidays 
and  heard  the  news." 

"  The  sequel  was  perfectly  simple,"  Dominey  ob- 
served. "  We  met  at  the  north  end  of  the  Black 
Wood  one  evening,  and  he  attacked  me  like  a  mad- 
man. I  suppose  I  had  to  some  extent  the  best  of  it, 
but  when  I  got  back  to  the  Hall  my  arm  was  broken, 
I  was  covered  with  blood,  and  half  unconscious.  By 
some  cruel  stroke  of  fortune,  almost  the  first  person  I 
saw  was  Lady  Dominey.  The  shock  was  too  much 
for  her  —  she  fainted  and  — " 

"  And  has  never  been  qui  e  herself  since,"  the  law- 
yer concluded.      "  Most  tragic  !  " 

"  The  cruel  part  of  it  was,"  Dominey  went  on, 
standing  before  the  window,  his  hands  clasped  behind 
his  back,  "  that  my  wife  from  that  moment  developed 
a  homicidal  mania  against  me  —  I,  who  had  fought 
in  the  most  absolute  self-defence.  That  was  what 
drove  me  out  of  the  country,  Mangan  —  not  the  fear 
of  being   arrested   for   having   caused   the  death   of 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION  99 

Roger  Unthank.  I'd  have  stood  my  trial  for  that  at 
any  moment.  It  was  the  other  thing  that  broke  me 
up'" 

"  Quite  so,"  Mangan  murmured  S3^mpathetically. 
"  As  a  matter  of  fact,  you  were  perfectly  safe  from 
arrest,  as  it  happened.  The  body  of  Roger  Unthank 
has  never  been  found  from  that  day  to  this." 

"  If  it  had  — " 

"  You  must  have  been  charged  with  either  murder 
or  manslaughter." 

Dominey  abandoned  his  post  at  the  window  and 
raised  his  glass  of  sherry  to  his  lips.  The  tragical 
side  of  these  reminiscences  seemed,  so  far  as  he  was 
concerned,  to  liave  passed. 

"  I  suppose,"  he  remarked,  "  it  was  the  disappear- 
ance of  the  body  which  has  given  rise  to  all  this  talk 
as  to  his  spirit  still  inhabiting  the  Black  Wood." 

"  Without  a  doubt,"  the  lawyer  acquiesced.  "  The 
place  had  a  bad  name  already,  as  you  know.  As  it  is, 
I  don't  suppose  there's  a  villager  here  would  cross  the 
park  in  that  direction  after  dark." 

Dominey  glanced  at  his  watch  and  led  the  way  from 
the  room. 

"  After  dinner,"  he  promised,  "  I'll  tell  you  a  few 
West  African  superstitions  which  will  make  our  local 
one  seem  anaemic." 


CHAPTER  IX 

"  I  certainly  offer  you  my  heartiest  congratula- 
tions upon  your  cellars,  Sir  Everard,"  his  guest  said, 
as  he  sipped  his  third  glass  of  port  that  evening. 
"  This  is  the  finest  glass  of  seventy  I've  drunk  for 
a  long  time,  and  this  new  fellow  I've  sent  you  down  — 
Parkins  —  tells  me  there's  any  quantity  of  it." 

"  It  has  had  a  pretty  long  rest,"  Dominey  observed. 

"  I  was  looking  through  the  cellar-book  before 
dinner,"  the  lawyer  went  on,  "  and  I  see  that  you  still 
have  forty-seven  and  forty-eight,  and  a  small  quan- 
tity of  two  older  vintages.  Something  ought  to  be 
done  about  those." 

"  We  will  try  one  of  them  to-morrow  night,"  Domi- 
ney suggested.  "  We  might  spend  half  an  hour  or  so 
in  the  cellars,  if  we  have  any  time  to  spare." 

"  And  another  half  an  hour,"  J\Ir.  Mangan  said 
gravely,  "  I  should  like  to  spend  in  interviewing  Mrs. 
Unthank.  Apart  from  any  other  question,  I  do  not 
for  one  moment  believe  that  she  is  the  proper  person 
to  be  entrusted  with  the  care  of  Lady  Dominey.  I 
made  up  my  mind  to  speak  to  3'ou  on  this  subject,  Sir 
Everard,  as  soon  as  we  had  arrived  here." 

"  Mrs.  Unthank  was  old  Mr.  Felbrigg's  house- 
keeper and  my  wife's  nurse  when  she  was  a  child," 
Dominey  reminded  his  companion.      "  Whatever  her 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION         loi 

faults  may  be,  I  believe  she  is  devoted  to  Lady  Dom- 
iney." 

"  She  may  be  devoted  to  your  wife,"  the  lawyer  ad- 
mitted, "  but  I  am  convinced  that  she  is  your  enemy. 
The  situation  doesn't  seem  to  me  to  be  consistent. 
Mrs.  Unthank  is  firmly  convinced  that,  whether  in  fair 
fight  or  not,  you  killed  her  son.  Lady  Dominey  be- 
lieves that,  too,  and  it  was  the  sight  of  you  after  the 
fight  that  sent  her  insane.  I  cannot  but  believe  that 
it  would  be  far  better  for  Lady  Dominey  to  have 
some  one  with  her  unconnected  with  this  unfortunate 
chapter  of  your  past." 

"  We  will  consult  Doctor  Harrison  to-morrow," 
Dominey  said.  "  I  am  very  glad  you  came  down  with 
me,  Mangan,"  he  went  on,  after  a  minute's  hesitation. 
"  I  find  it  very  difficult  to  get  back  into  the  atmos- 
pliere  of  those  days.  I  even  find  it  hard  sometimes," 
he  added,  with  a  curious  little  glance  across  the  table, 
"  to  believe  that  I  am  the  same  man." 

"  Not  so  hard  as  I  have  done  more  than  once,"  Mr. 
Mangan  confessed. 

"  Tell  me  exactly  in  what  respects  you  consider  me 
changed?  "  Dominey  insisted. 

The  lawyer  hesitated. 

"  You  seem  to  have  lost  a  certain  pliability,  or  per- 
haps I  ought  to  call  it  looseness  of  disposition,"  he 
admitted.  "  There  are  many  things  connected  with 
the  past  which  I  find  it  almost  impossible  to  associate 
with  you.  For  a  trifling  instance,"  he  went  on,  with 
a  slight  smile,  inclining  his  head  towards  his  host's 
untasted  glass.  "You  don't  drink  port  like  any 
Dominey  I  ever  knew." 


102        THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

*'  I'm  afraid  that  I  never  acquired  the  taste  for 
port,"  Dominey  observed. 

The  lawA^er  gazed  at  him  with  raised  eyebrows. 

"  Not  acquired  the  taste  for  port  ?  "  he  repeated 
blankly. 

"  I  should  have  said  reacquired,"  Dominey  hastened 
to  explain.  "  You  see,  in  the  bush  we  drank  a  simply 
frightful  amount  of  spirits,  and  that  vitiates  the  taste 
for  all  wine." 

The  law3'er  glanced  enviously  at  his  host's  fine 
bronzed  complexion  and  clear  eyes. 

"  You  haven't  the  appearance  of  ever  having  drunk 
anything.  Sir  Evcrard,"  he  observed  frankly.  "  One 
finds  it  hard  to  believe  the  stories  that  were  going 
about  ten  or  fifteen  years  ago." 

"  The  Dominey  constitution,  I  suppose  !  " 

The  new  butler  entered  the  room  noiselessly  and 
came  to  his  master's  chair. 

"  I  have  served  coffee  in  the  library,  sir,"  he  an- 
nounced. "  Mr.  Middleton,  the  gamekeeper,  has  just 
called,  and  asks  if  he  could  have  a  word  with  you  be- 
fore he  goes  to  bed  to-night,  sir.  He  seems  in  a  very 
nervous  and  uneasy  state." 

"  He  can  come  to  the  library  at  once,"  Dominey 
directed ;  "  that  is,  if  you  are  ready  for  3^our  coff'ee, 
Mangan." 

"  Indeed  I  am,"  the  lawyer  assented,  rising.  "  A 
great  treat,  that  wine.  One  thing  the  London  res- 
taurants can't  give  us.  Port  should  never  be  drunk 
away  from  the  place  where  it  was  laid  down." 

The  two  men  made  their  way  across  the  very  fine 
hall,  the  walls  of  which  had  suflTered  a  little  through 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION        103 

lack  of  heating,  into  the  library,  and  seated  them- 
selves in  easy-chairs  before  the  blazing  log  fire.  Par- 
kins silently  sen-ed  them  with  coffee  and  brandy.  He 
had  scarcely  left  the  room  before  there  was  a  timid 
knock  and  Middleton  made  his  somewhat  hesitating 
entrance. 

"  Come  in  and  close  the  door,"  Dominey  directed. 
"  What  is  it,  Middleton  ?  Parkins  says  you  wish  to 
speak  to  me." 

The  man  came  hesitatingly  forward.  He  was  ob- 
viously distressed  and  uneasy,  and  found  speech  diffi- 
cult. His  face  glistened  with  the  rain  which  had 
found  its  way,  too,  in  long  streaks  down  his  velveteen 
coat.  His  white  hair  was  wind-tossed  and  disar- 
ranged. 

"  Bad  night,"  Domine}'  remarked. 

"  It's  to  save  its  being  a  worse  one  that  I'm  here, 
Squire,"  the  old  man  replied  hoarsely.  "  I've  come  to 
ask  you  a  favour  and  to  beg  you  to  grant  it  for  your 
own  sake.  You'll  not  sleep  in  the  oak  room  to- 
night?" 

"  And  why  not.-^  "  Dominey  asked. 

"  It's  next  her  ladyship's." 

"Well.?" 

The  old  man  was  obviously  perturbed,  but  his 
master,  as  though  of  a  purpose,  refused  to  help  him. 
He  glanced  at  Mangan  and  mumbled  to  himself. 

"  Say  exactl}'  what  you  wish  to,  Middleton,"  Domi- 
ney invited.  "  Mr.  Mangan  and  his  father  and 
grandfather  have  been  solicitors  to  the  estate  for  a 
great  many  years.  They  know  all  our  family  his- 
tory." 


104        THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

"  I  can't  get  rightly  into  touch  with  3'OU,  Squire, 
and  that's  a  fact,"  Middleton  went  on  despairingly. 
"  The  shape  of  you  seems  larger  and  your  voice 
harder.  I  don't  seem  to  be  so  near  to  you  as  I'd 
wished,  to  say  what's  in  my  heart." 

"  I  have  had  a  rough  time,  ^Middleton,"  Dominey 
reminded  him.  "  No  wonder  I  have  changed  !  Never 
mind,  speak  to  me  just  as  man  to  man." 

"  It  was  I  who  first  met  you,  Squire,"  the  old  man 
went  on,  "  when  you  tottered  home  that  night  across 
the  park,  with  your  arm  hanging  helplessly  by  your 
side,  and  the  blood  streaming  down  your  face  and 
clothes,  and  the  red  light  in  your  eyes  —  murderous 
fire,  they  called  it.  I  heard  her  ladyship  go  into 
hysterics.  I  saw  her  laugh  and  sob  like  a  maniac, 
and,  God  help  us !  that's  what  she's  been  ever 
since." 

The  two  men  were  silent.  Middleton  had  raised  his 
voice,  speaking  with  fierce  excitement.  It  was  obvi- 
ous that  he  had  only  paused  for  breath.  He  had 
more  to  say. 

"  I  was  by  your  side,  Squire,"  he  went  on,  "  when 
her  ladyship  caught  up  the  knife  and  ran  at  you, 
and,  as  you  well  know,  it  was  I,  seizing  her  from  be- 
hind, that  saved  a  double  tragedy  that  night,  and  it 
was  I  who  went  for  the  doctor  the  next  morning,  when 
she'd  stolen  into  your  room  in  the  night  and  missed 
your  throat  by  a  bare  inch.  I  heard  her  call  to  you, 
heard  her  threat.  It  was  a  madwoman's  threat, 
Squire,  but  her  ladyship  is  a  madwoman  at  this  mo- 
ment, and  with  a  knife  in  her  hand  ^^ou'll  never  be  safe 
in  this  house." 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION        105 

"  We  must  see,"  Domine}'  said  quietly,  "  that  she  is 
not  allowed  to  get  possession  of  any  weapon." 

"  Aye !  Make  sure  of  that,"  ^liddleton  scoffed, 
"  with  Mother  Unthank  by  her  side !  Her  ladyship's 
mad  because  of  the  horror  of  that  night,  but  Mother 
Unthank  is  mad  with  hate,  and  there  isn't  a  week 
passes,"  the  old  man  went  on,  his  voice  dropping 
lower  and  his  eyes  burning,  "  that  Roger  Unthank's 
spirit  doesn't  come  and  howl  for  your  blood  beneath 
their  window.  If  you  stay  here  this  night.  Squire, 
come  over  and  sleep  in  the  little  room  they've  got 
ready  for  3'ou  on  the  other  side  of  the  house." 

Mr.  Mangan  had  lost  his  smooth,  after-dinner  ap- 
pearance. His  face  was  distinctly  pale,  his  smoothly 
brushed  hair  was  rumpled,  and  his  coffee  was  growing 
cold.  This  was  a  very  different  thing  from  the  vague 
letters  and  rumours  which  had  reached  him  from  time 
to  time  and  which  he  had  put  out  of  his  mind  with  all 
the  contempt  of  the  materialist. 

"  It  is  very  good  of  you  to  warn  me,  ]\Iiddleton," 
Dominey  said,  "  but  I  can  lock  my  door,  can  I  not.''  " 

"  Lock  the  door  of  the  oak  room  !  "  was  the  scorn- 
ful reph\  "And  what  good  would  that  do?  You 
know  well  enough  that  the  wall's  double  on  three  sides, 
and  there  are  more  secret  entrances  than  even  I  know 
of.  The  oak  room's  not  for  you  this  night,  Squire. 
It's  hoping  to  get  you  there  that's  keeping  them 
quiet." 

"  Tell  us  what  you  meant,  Middlcton,"  the  lawj-er 
asked,  with  ill-assumed  indifference,  "  when  you  spoke 
of  the  howling  of  Roger  Unthank's  spirit.''  " 

The  old  man  turned  patiently  around. 


io6        THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

"  Just  that,  sir,"  he  replied.  "  It's  round  the 
house  most  weeks.  Except  for  me  odd  nights,  and 
Mrs.  Unthank,  there's  been  scarcely  a  servant  would 
sleep  in  the  Hall  for  years.  Some  of  the  maids  they 
do  come  up  from  the  village,  but  back  they  go  before 
nightfall,  and  until  morning  there  isn't  a  living  soul 
would  cross  the  park  —  no,  not  for  a  hundred 
pounds." 

"  A  howl,  you  call  it.''  "  Mr.  Mangan  observed. 

"  That's  mostly  like  a  dog  what's  hurt  itself," 
Middleton  explained  equably,  "  like  a  dog,  that  is, 
with  a  touch  of  the  human  in  its  tliroat,  as  we've  all 
heard  in  our  time,  sir.  You'll  hear  it  yourself,  sir, 
maybe  to-night  or  to-morrow  night." 

"You've  heard  it  then,  Middleton.'^"  his  master 
asked. 

"  Why,  surely,  sir,"  the  old  man  replied  in  surprise. 
"  Most  weeks  for  the  last  ten  years." 

"  Haven't  you  ever  got  up  and  gone  out  to  see 
what  it  was.''  " 

The  old  man  shook  his  head. 

"  But  I  knew  right  well  what  that  was,  sir,"  he  said, 
"  and  I'm  not  one  for  looking  on  spirits.  Spirits 
there  are  that  walk  this  world,  as  we  well  know,  and 
the  spirit  of  Roger  Unthank  walks  from  between  the 
Black  Wood  and  these  windows,  come  every  week  of 
the  year.  But  I'm  not  for  looking  at  him.  There's 
evil  comes  of  that.  I  turn  over  in  my  bed,  and  I  stc  p 
my  ears,  but  I've  never  yet  raised  a  blind." 

"  Tell  me,  Middleton,"  Dominey  asked,  "  is  Lady 
Domine}'^  terrified  at  these  —  er  —  visitations?  " 

"  That  I  can't  rightly   say,   sir.      Her  ladyship's 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION        107 

always  sweet  and  gentle,  with  kind  words  on  her  lips 
for  every  one,  but  there's  the  terror  there  in  her  eyes 
that  was  lit  that  night  when  3'ou  staggered  into  the 
hall,  Squire,  and  I've  never  seen  it  properly  quenched 
yet,  so  to  speak.  She  carries  fear  with  her,  but 
whether  it's  the  fear  of  seeing  you  again,  or  the  fear 
of  Roger  Unthank's  spirit,  I  could  not  tell." 

Dominey  seemed  suddenly  to  become  possessed  of  a 
strange  desire  to  thrust  the  whole  subject  away.  He 
dismissed  the  old  man  kindly  but  a  little  abruptly, 
accompanying  him  to  the  corridor  which  led  to  the 
servants'  quarters  and  talking  all  the  time  about  the 
pheasants.  When  he  returned,  he  found  that  his 
guest  had  emptied  his  second  glass  of  brandy  and 
was  surreptitiously  mopping  his  forehead. 

"  That,"  the  latter  remarked,  "  is  the  class  of  old 
retainer  who  lives  too  long.  If  I  were  a  Dominey  of 
the  Middle  Ages,  I  think  a  stone  around  his  neck  and 
the  deepest  well  would  be  the  sensible  way  of  dealing 
with  him.  He  made  me  feel  positively  uncomfort- 
able." 

"  I  noticed  it,"  Dominey  remarked,  with  a  faint 
smile.  "  I'm  not  going  to  pretend  that  it  was  a  pleas- 
ant conversation  myself." 

"  I've  heard  some  ghost  stories,"  Mangan  went  on, 
"  but  a  spook  that  comes  and  howls  once  a  week  for 
ten  years  takes  some  beating." 

Dominey  poured  himself  out  a  glass  of  brandy  with 
a  steady  hand. 

"  You've  been  neglecting  things  here,  Mangan,"  he 
complained.  "  You  ought  to  have  come  down  and 
exorcised   that   ghost.     We   shall   have   those   smart 


io8        THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

maidservants  of  yours  off  to-morrow,  I  suppose,  un- 
less you  and  I  can  get  a  little  ghost-laying  in  first." 

Mr.  Mangan  began  to  feel  more  comfortable.  The 
brandy  and  the  warmth  of  the  burning  logs  were 
creeping  into  his  system. 

"  By  the  by,  Sir  Everard,"  he  enquired,  a  little 
later  on,  "  where  are  you  going  to  sleep  to-night.''  " 

Doraincy  stretched  himself  out  composedly. 

"  There  is  obviously  onlv  one  place  for  me,"  he  re- 
plied. "  I  can't  disappoint  any  one.  I  shall  sleep  in 
the  oak  room." 


CHAPTER  X 

For  the  first  few  tangled  moments  of  nightmare, 
slowly  developing  into  a  live  horror,  Dominey  fancied 
himself  back  in  Africa,  with  the  hand  of  an  enemy 
upon  his  throat.  Then  a  rush  of  awakened  mem- 
ories —  the  silence  of  the  great  house,  the  mysterious 
rustling  of  the  heav3^  hangings  around  the  black  oak 
four-poster  on  which  he  lay,  the  faint  pricking  of 
something  deadh'  at  his  throat  —  these  things  rolled 
back  the  curtain  of  unreality,  brought  him  acute  and 
painful  consciousness  of  a  situation  almost  appalling. 
He  opened  his  eyes,  and  although  a  brave  and  cal- 
lous man  he  lay  still,  paralysed  with  the  fear  which 
forbids  motion.  The  dim  light  of  a  candle,  recentlj' 
lit,  flashed  upon  the  bodkin-like  dagger  held  at  his 
throat.  He  gazed  at  the  thin  line  of  gleaming  steel, 
fascinated.  Already  his  skin  had  been  broken,  a  few 
drops  of  blood  were  upon  the  collar  of  his  pyjamas. 
The  hand  which  held  that  deadly,  assailing  weapon  — 
small,  slim,  very  feminine,  curving  from  somewhere 
behind  the  bed  curtain  —  belonged  to  some  unseen 
person.  He  tried  to  shrink  farther  back  upon  the 
pillow.  The  hand  followed  him,  displa3'ing  glimpses 
now  of  a  soft,  white-sleeved  arm.  He  lay  quite  still, 
the  muscles  of  his   right  arm  growing  tenser  as  he 


no        THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

prepared  for  a  snatch  at  those  cruel  fingers.  Then  a 
voice  came, —  a  slow,  feminine  and  rather  wonderful 
voice. 

"  If  you  move,"  it  said,  "  you  will  die.  Remain 
quite  still." 

Dominey  was  fully  conscious  now,  his  brain  at 
work,  calculating  his  chances  with  all  the  cunning  of 
the  trained  hunter  who  seeks  to  avoid  death.  Reluct- 
antly he  was  compelled  to  realise  that  no  movement 
of  his  could  be  quick  enough  to  prevent  the  driving  of 
that  thin  stiletto  into  his  throat,  if  his  hidden  assail- 
ant should  keep  her  word.      So  he  lay  still. 

"  Why  do  you  want  to  kill  me.''  "  he  asked,  a  little 
tensely. 

There  was  no  reply,  yet  somehow  he  knew  that  he 
was  being  watched.  Ever  so  slightly  those  curtains 
around  which  the  arm  had  come,  were  being  parted. 
Through  the  chink  sxime  one  was  looking  at  him.  The 
thought  came  that  he  might  call  out  for  help,  and 
once  more  his  unseen  enemy  read  his  thought. 

"  You  must  be  very  quiet,"  the  voice  said, —  that 
voice  which  it  was  difficult  for  him  to  believe  was  not 
the  voice  of  a  child.  "  If  you  even  speak  above  a 
whisper,  it  will  be  the  end.      I  wish  to  look  at  you." 

A  little  wider  the  crack  opened,  and  then  he  began 
to  feel  hope.  The  hand  which  held  the  stiletto  was 
shaking,  he  heard  something  which  sounded  like  quick 
breathing  from  behind  the  curtains  —  the  breathing 
of  a  woman  astonished  or  terrified  —  and  then,  so 
suddenly  that  for  several  seconds  he  could  not  move 
or  take  advantage  of  the  circumstance,  the  hand  with 
its  cruel  weapon  was  withdrawn  around  the  curtain 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION        iii 

and  a  woman  began  to  laugh,  softly  at  first,  and  then 
with  a  little  hysterical  sob  thrusting  its  way  through 
that  incongruous  note  of  mirth. 

He  lay  upon  the  bed  as  though  mesmerised,  finding 
at  his  first  effort  that  his  limbs  refused  their  office,  as 
might  the  limbs  of  one  lying  under  the  thrall  of  a 
nightmare.  The  laugh  died  away,  there  was  a  sound 
like  a  scraping  upon  the  wall,  the  candle  was  suddenly 
blown  out.  Then  his  nerve  began  to  return  and  with 
it  his  control  over  his  limbs.  He  crawled  to  the  side 
of  the  bed  remote  from  the  curtains,  stole  to  the  little 
table  on  which  he  had  left  his  revolver  and  an  electric 
torch,  snatched  at  them,  and,  with  the  former  in  his 
right  hand,  flashed  a  little  orb  of  light  into  the  shad- 
ows of  the  great  apartment.  Once  more  something 
like  terror  seized  him.  The  figure  which  had  been 
standing  by  the  side  of  his  bed  had  vanished.  There 
was  no  hiding  place  in  view.  Every  inch  of  the  room 
was  lit  up  by  the  powerful  torch  he  carried,  and,  save 
for  himself,  the  room  was  empty.  The  first  moment 
of  realisation  was  chill  and  unnerving.  Then  the 
slight  smarting  of  the  wound  at  his  throat  became 
convincing  proof  to  him  that  there  was  nothing  super- 
natural about  this  visit.  He  lit  up  half-a-dozen  of 
the  candles  distributed  about  the  place  and  laid  down 
his  torch.  He  was  ashamed  to  find  that  his  forehead 
was  dripping  with  perspiration. 

"  One  of  the  secret  passages,  of  course,"  he  mut- 
tered to  himself,  stooping  for  a  moment  to  examine 
the  locked,  folding  doors  which  separated  his  room 
from  the  adjoining  one.  "Perhaps,  when  one  re- 
flects, I  have  run  unnecessary  risks." 


112        THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

Domine^'  was  standing  at  the  Avindow,  looking  out 
at  the  tumbled  grey  waters  of  the  North  Sea,  when 
Parkins  brought  him  hot  water  and  tea  in  the  morn- 
ing. He  thrust  his  feet  into  slippers  and  held  out 
his  arms  for  a  dressing-gown. 

"  Find  out  where  the  nearest  bathroom  is,  Par- 
kins," he  ordered,  "  and  prepare  it.  I  have  quite 
forgotten  my  wha'  about  here." 

"  Very  good,  sir." 

The  man  was  motionless  for  a  moment,  staring 
at  the  blood  on  his  master's  pyjamas.  Dominey 
glanced  down  at  it  and  turned  the  dressing-gown  up 
to  his  throat. 

"  I  had  a  slight  accident  this  morning,"  he 
remarked  carelessly.  "  Any  ghost  alarms  last 
night  .^  " 

"  None  that  I  heard  of,  sir,"  the  man  replied.  "  I 
am  afraid  we  should  have  difficulty  in  keeping  the 
young  women  from  London,  if  they  heard  what  I 
heard  the  night  of  my  arrival." 

"  Very  terrible,  was  it  ?  "  Dominey  asked  with  a 
smile. 

Parkins'  expression  remained  immovable.  There 
was  in  his  tone,  however,  a  mute  protest  against  his 
master's  levity. 

"  The  cries  were  the  most  terrible  I  have  ever  heard, 
sir,"  he  said.  "  I  am  not  a  nervous  person,  but  I 
found  them  most  disturbing." 

"  Human  or  animal?  " 

"  A  mixture  of  both,  I  should  say,  sir." 

"  You  should  camp  out  for  the  night  on  the  skirts 
of  an  African  forest,"  Dominey  remarked.     "  There 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION        113 

3'ou  get  a  whole  orchestra  of  wild  animals,  every  one 
of  them  trying  to  freeze  your  blood  up." 

"  I  was  out  in  South  Africa  during  the  Boer  War, 
sir,"  Parkins  replied,  "  and  I  went  big  game  hunting 
with  m}^  master  afterwards.  I  do  not  think  that  any 
animal  was  ever  born  in  Africa  with  so  terrifying  a 
cry  as  we  heard  the  night  before  last." 

"  We  must  look  into  the  matter,"  Dominey  mut- 
tered. 

"  I  have  already  prepared  a  bath,  sir,  at  the  end  of 
the  corridor,"  the  man  announced.  "  If  3^ou  will 
allow  me,  I  will  show  you  the  way." 

Domine}^,  when  he  descended  about  an  hour  later, 
found  his  guest  awaiting  him  in  a  smaller  dining- 
room,  which  looked  out  eastwards  towards  the  sea,  a 
lofty  apartment  with  great  windows  and  with  an  air 
of  faded  splendour  which  came  from  the  ill-cared-for 
tapestries,  hanging  in  places  from  the  wall.  Mr. 
Mangan  had,  contrary  to  his  expectations,  slept  well 
and  was  in  excellent  spirits.  The  row  of  silver  dishes 
upon  the  sideboard  inspired  him  with  an  added  cheer- 
fulness. 

"  So  there  were  no  ghosts  walking  last  night,  eh.^^  " 
he  remarked,  as  he  took  his  place  at  the  table. 
"  Wonderful  thing  this  absolute  quiet  is  after  Lon- 
don. Give  you  my  word,  I  never  heard  a  sound  from 
the  moment  my  head  touched  the  pillow  until  I  woke  a 
short  while  ago." 

Dominey  returned  from  the  sideboard,  carrying 
also  a  well-filled  plate. 

"  I  had  a  pretty  useful  night's  rest  mj^self,"  he 
observed. 


114        THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

Mangan  raised  his  eyeglass  and  gazed  at  his  host's 
throat. 

"  Cut  yourself,  eh?  "  he  queried. 

"  Razor  slipped,"  Dominey  told  him.  "  You  get 
out  of  the  use  of  those  things  in  Africa." 

"  You've  managed  to  give  yourself  a  nasty  gash," 
Mr.  Mangan  observed  curiously. 

"  Parkins  is  going  to  send  up  for  a  new  set  of 
safet}'  razors  for  me,"  Dominey  announced.  "  About 
our  plans  for  the  day, —  I've  ordered  the  car  for  two- 
thirty  this  afternoon,  if  that  suits  you.  We  can  look 
around  the  place  quietly  this  morning.  Mr.  Johnson 
is  sleeping  over  at  a  farmhouse  near  here.  We  shall 
pick  him  up  en  route.  And  I  have  told  Lees,  the  bail- 
iff, to  come  with  us  too." 

Mr.  Mangan  nodded  his  approval. 

"  Upon  my  word,"  he  confessed,  "  it  will  be  a  joy 
to  me  to  go  and  see  some  of  these  fellows  without 
having  to  put  'em  off  about  repairs  and  that  sort  of 
thing.  Johnson  has  had  the  worst  of  it,  poor  chap, 
but  there  are  one  or  two  of  them  took  it  into  their 
heads  to  come  up  to  London  and  worry  me  at  the 
office." 

"  I  intend  that  there  shall  be  no  more  dissatisfac- 
tion amongst  my  tenants." 

Mr.  Mangan  set  off  for  another  prowl  towards  the 
sideboard. 

"  Satisfied  tenants  you  never  will  get  in  Norfolk," 
he  declared.  "  I  must  admit,  though,  that  some  of 
them  have  had  cause  to  grumble  lately.  There's  a 
fellow  round  by  Wells  who  farms  nearly  eight  hun- 
dred acres  — " 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION        115 

He  broke  off  in  his  speech.  There  was  a  knock  at 
the  door,  not  an  ordinary  knock  at  all,  but  a  meas- 
ured, deliberate  tapping,  three  times  repeated. 

"  Come  in,"  Dominey  called  out. 

Mrs.  Unthank  entered,  severer,  more  unattractive 
than  ever  in  the  hard  morning  light.  She  came  to 
the  end  of  the  table,  facing  the  place  where  Dominey 
was  seated. 

"  Good  morning,  Mrs.  Unthank,"  he  said. 

She  ignored  his  greeting. 

"  I  am  the  bearer  of  a  message,"  she  announced. 

"  Pray  deliver  it,"  Dominey  replied. 

"  Her  ladjship  would  be  glad  for  you  to  visit  her 
in  her  apartment  at  once." 

Dominey  leaned  back  in  his  chair.  His  eyes  were 
fixed  upon  the  face  of  the  woman  whose  antagonism  to 
himself  was  so  apparent.  She  stood  in  the  path  of  a 
long  gleam  of  morning  sunlight.  The  wrinkles  in 
her  face,  her  hard  mouth,  her  cold,  steely  e^'es  were 
all  clearh'  revealed. 

"  I  am  not  at  all  sure,"  he  said,  with  a  purpose  in 
his  words,  "  that  any  further  meeting  between  Lady 
Dominey  and  myself  is  at  present  desirable." 

If  he  had  thought  to  disturb  this  messenger  by  his 
suggestion,  he  was  disappointed. 

"  Her  ladyship  desires  me  to  assure  you,"  she 
added,  with  a  note  of  contempt  in  her  tone,  "  that 
you  need  be  under  no  apprehension." 

Dominey  admitted  defeat  and  poured  himself  out 
some  more  coffee.  Neither  of  the  two  noticed  that 
his  fingers  were  trembling. 

"  Her    ladyship    is    very    considerate,"    he    said. 


ii6        THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

"  Kindly  say  that  I  shall  follow  you  in  a  few  min- 
utes." 

Dominey,  following  within  a  very  few  minutes  of  his 
summons,  was  ushered  into  an  apartment  large  and 
sombrely  elegant,  an  apartment  of  faded  white  and 
gold  walls,  of  chandeliers  glittering  with  lustres,  of 
Louis  Quinzc  furniture,  shabby  but  priceless.  To  his 
surprise,  although  he  scarcely  noticed  it  at  the  time, 
Mrs.  Unthank  promptly  disappeared.  He  was  from 
the  first  left  alone  with  the  woman  whom  he  had  come 
to  visit. 

She  was  sitting  up  on  her  couch  and  watching  his 
approach.  A  woman?  SureW  only  a  child,  with 
pale  cheeks,  large,  anxious  eyes,  and  masses  of  brown 
hair  brushed  back  from  her  forehead.  After  all,  was 
he  indeed  a  strong  man,  vowed  to  great  things? 
There  was  a  queer  feeling  in  his  throat,  almost  a  mist 
before  his  c^es.  She  seemed  so  fragile,  so  utterly, 
sweetly  pathetic.  And  all  the  time  there  was  the 
strange  light,  or  was  it  want  of  light,  in  those  haunt- 
ing eyes.     His  speech  of  greeting  was  never  spoken. 

*'  So  you  have  come  to  see  me,  Everard,"  she  said, 
in  a  broken  tone.     "  You  are  very  brave." 

He  possessed  himself  of  her  hand,  the  hand  which 
a  few  hours  ago  had  held  a  dagger  to  his  throat,  and 
kissed  the  waxenlike  fingers.  It  fell  to  her  side  like  a 
lifeless  thing.  Then  she  raised  it  and  began  rubbing 
softly  at  the  place  where  his  lips  had  fallen. 

"  I  have  come  to  see  you  at  3'our  bidding,"  he  re- 
plied, "  and  for  my  pleasure." 

"  Pleasure !  "  she  murmured,  with  a  ghastly  little 
smile.      "  You   have   learnt    to    control    your   words, 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION        117 

Everard.  You  have  slept  here  and  3'ou  live.  I  have 
broken  my  word.     I  wonder  why  ?  " 

"  Because,"  he  pleaded,  "  I  have  not  deserved  that 
you  should  seek  my  life." 

"  That  sounds  strangely,"  she  reflected.  "  Doesn't 
it  say  somewhere  in  the  Bible — 'A  life  for  a  life'? 
You  killed  Roger  Unthank." 

"  I  have  killed  other  men  since  in  self-defence," 
Dominey  told  her.  "  Sometimes  it  comes  to  a  man 
that  he  must  slay  or  be  slain.  It  was  Roger  Un- 
thank — " 

"  I  shall  not  talk  about  him  any  longer,"  she  de- 
cided quite  calmly.  "  The  night  before  last,  his 
spirit  was  calling  to  me  below  my  window.  He  wants 
me  to  go  down  into  Hell  and  live  with  him.  The  very 
thought  is  horrible." 

"  Come,"  Dominey  said,  "  we  will  speak  of  other 
things.  You  must  tell  me  what  presents  I  can  buy 
you.      I  have  come  back  from  Africa  rich." 

"  Presents.'" 

For  a  single  wonderful  moment,  hers  was  the  face  of 
a  child  who  has  been  offered  toys.  Her  smile  of  an- 
ticipation was  delightful,  her  eyes  had  lost  that 
strange  vacancy.  Then,  before  he  could  say  another 
word,  it  all  came  back  again. 

"  Listen  to  me,"  she  said.  "  This  is  important.  I 
have  sent  for  you  because  I  do  not  understand  why, 
quite  suddenly  last  night,  after  I  had  made  up  my 
mind,  I  lost  the  desire  to  kill  you.  It  is  gone  now. 
I  am  not  sure  about  myself  any  longer.  Draw  your 
chair  nearer  to  mine.  Or  no,  come  to  my  side,  here 
at  the  other  end  of  the  sofa." 


ii8        THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

She  moved  her  skirts  to  make  room  for  him.  When 
he  sat  down,  he  felt  a  strange  trembling  through  all 
his  limbs. 

"  Perhaps,"  she  went  on,  "  I  shall  break  my  oath. 
Indeed,  I  have  already  broken  it.  Let  me  look  at 
you,  my  husband.  It  is  a  strange  thing  to  own  after 
all  these  years  —  a  husband." 

Dominey  felt  as  though  he  were  breathing  an 
atmosphere  of  turgid  and  poisoned  sweetness.  There 
was  a  flavour  of  unreality  about  the  whole  situation, 
—  the  room,  this  child  woman,  her  beauty,  her  delib- 
erate, halting  speech  and  the  strange  things  she  said. 

"  You  find  me  changed  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  You  are  very  wonderfully  changed.  You  look 
stronger,  you  are  perhaps  better-looking,  yet  there  is 
something  gone  from  your  face  which  I  thought  one 
never  lost." 

"  You,"  he  said  cautiously,  "  are  more  beautiful 
than  ever,  Rosamund." 

She  laughed  a  little  dreariW- 

"  Of  what  use  has  my  beauty  been  to  me,  Everard, 
since  you  came  to  my  little  cottage  and  loved  me  and 
made  me  love  }^ou,  and  took  me  away  from  Dour 
Roger?  Do  3"ou  remember  the  school  children  used 
to  call  him  Dour  Roger? — But  that  does  not  mat- 
ter. Do  3'ou  know,  Everard,  that  since  3'ou  left  me 
my  feet  have  not  passed  outside  these  gardens?  " 

"  That  can  be  altered  when  you  wish,"  he  said 
quickly.  "  You  can  \4sit  where  you  Avill.  You  can 
have  a  motor-car,  even  a  house  in  town.  I  shall  bring 
some  wonderful  doctors  here,  and  they  will  make  you 
quite  strong  again." 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION        iig 

Her  large  eyes  were  lifted  almost  piteously  to  his. 

"But  how  can  I  leave  here?"  she  asked  plain- 
tively. "  Every  week,  sometimes  of  tener,  he  calls  to 
me.  If  I  went  aAvay,  his  spirit  would  break  loose  and 
follow  me.  I  must  be  here  to  wave  my  hand ;  then  he 
goes  away." 

Dominey  was  conscious  once  more  of  that  strange 
and  most  unexpected  fit  of  emotion.  He  was  unrec- 
ognisable even  to  himself.  Never  before  in  his  life 
had  his  heart  beaten  as  it  was  beating  now.  His  eyes, 
too,  were  hot.  He  had  travelled  around  the  world  in 
search  of  new  things,  only  to  find  them  in  this  strange, 
faded  chamber,  side  by  side  with  this  suffering  woman. 
Nevertheless,  he  said  quietly : 

"  We  must  send  you  some  place  where  the  people 
are  kinder  and  where  life  is  pleasanter.  Perhaps  you 
love  music  and  to  see  beautiful  pictures.  I  think  that 
we  must  try  and  keep  you  from  thinking." 

She  sighed  in  a  perplexed  fashion. 

"  I  wish  that  I  could  get  it  out  of  my  blood  that  I 
want  to  kill  you.  Then  you  could  take  me  right 
away.  Other  married  people  have  lived  together  and 
hated  each  other.  Why  shouldn't  we .''  We  may  for- 
get even  to  hate." 

Dominey  staggered  to  his  feet,  walked  to  a  window, 
threw  it  open  and  leaned  out  for  a  moment.  Then 
he  closed  it  and  came  back.  This  new  element  in  the 
situation  had  been  a  shock  to  him.  All  the  time  she 
was  watching  him  composedly. 

"Well?"  she  asked,  with  a  strange  little  smile. 
"What  do  you  say?  Would  you  like  to  hold  as  a 
wife's  the  hand  which  frightened  you  so  last  night  ?  " 


I20        THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

She  held  it  out  to  him,  soft  and  warm.  Her  fingers 
even  returned  tlie  pressure  of  his.  She  looked  at  him 
pleasantly,  and  once  more  he  felt  like  a  man  who  has 
wandered  into  a  strange  country  and  has  lost  his 
bearings. 

"  I  want  you  so  much  to  be  happy,"  he  said 
hoarsely,  "  but  you  are  not  strong  yet,  Rosamund. 
We  cannot  decide  anything  in  a  hurry." 

"  How  surprised  you  are  to  find  that  I  am  willing 
to  be  nice  to  you!  "  she  murmured.  "  But  why  not.-^ 
You  cannot  know  why  I  have  so  suddenly  changed  my 
mind  about  you  — ■  and  I  have  changed  it.  I  have 
seen  the  truth  these  few  minutes.  There  is  a  reason, 
Everard,  why  I  should  not  kill  you." 

"  What  is  it.P  "  he  demanded. 

She  shook  her  head  with  all  the  joy  of  a  child  who 
keeps  a  secret. 

"  You  are  clever,"  she  said.  "  I  will  leave  you  to 
find  it  out.  I  am  excited  now,  and  I  want  you  to  go 
away  for  a  little  time.  Please  send  Mrs.  Unthank 
to  me." 

The  prospect  of  release  was  a  strange  relief,  min- 
gled still  more  strangely  with  regret.  He  lingered 
over  her  hand. 

"  If  you  walk  in  your  sleep  to-night,  then,"  he 
begged,  "  you  will  leave  your  dagger  behind  ?  " 

"  I  have  told  you,"  she  answered,  as  though  sur- 
prised, "  that  I  have  abandoned  my  intention.  I 
shall  not  kill  you.  Even  though  I  may  walk  in  my 
sleep  —  and  sometimes  the  nights  are  so  long  —  it 
will  not  be  your  death  I  seek." 


CHAPTER  XI 

Dominey  left  the  room  like  a  man  in  a  dream,  de- 
scended the  stairs  to  his  own  part  of  the  house,  caught 
up  a  hat  and  stick  and  strode  out  into  the  sea  mist 
wiiich  was  fast  enveloping  the  gardens.  There  was 
all  the  chill  of  the  North  Pole  in  that  ice-cold  cloud 
of  vapour,  but  nevertheless  his  forehead  remained 
hot,  his  pulses  burning.  He  passed  out  of  the  pos- 
tern gate  which  led  from  the  walled  garden  on  to  a 
broad  marsh,  with  dikes  running  here  and  there,  and 
lapping  tongues  of  sea  water  creeping  in  with  the  tide. 
He  made  his  way  seaward  with  uncertain  steps  until 
he  reached  a  rough  and  stony  road ;  here  he  hesitated 
for  a  moment,  looked  about  him,  and  then  turned  back 
at  right  angles.  Soon  he  came  to  a  little  village,  a 
village  of  ancient  cottages,  with  seasoned,  red-brick 
tiles,  trim  little  patches  of  garden,  a  church  embow- 
ered with  tall  elm  trees,  a  triangular  green  at  the 
cross-roads.  On  one  side  a  low,  thatched  building,—- 
the  Dominey  Arms ;  on  another,  an  ancient,  square, 
stone  house,  on  which  was  a  brass  plate.  He  went 
over  and  read  the  name,  rang  the  bell,  and  asked  the 
trim  maidservant  who  answered  it,  for  the  doctor. 
Presentl3'^,  a  man  of  youthful  middle-age  presented 
himself  in  the  surgery  and  bowed.  Dominey  was  for 
a  moment  at  a  loss. 


122        THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

"  I  came  to  see  Doctor  Harrison,"  he  ventured. 

"  Doctor  Harrison  retired  from  practice  some 
years  ago,"  was  the  courteous  rejjly.  "  I  am  his 
nephew,     Mj  name  is  Stillwell." 

"  I  understood  that  Doctor  Harrison  w-as  still  in 
the  neighbourhood,"  Dominey  said.  "  My  name  is 
Dominey  —  Sir  Everard  Dominey." 

"  I  guessed  as  much,"  the  other  replied.  "  My 
uncle  lives  with  me  here,  and  to  tell  you  the  truth  he 
was  hoping  that  you  would  come  and  see  him.  He 
retains  one  patient  only,"  Doctor  Stillwell  added,  in 
a  graver  tone.      "  You  can  image  who  that  would  be." 

His  caller  bowed.      "  Lady  Dominey,  I  presume." 

The  young  doctor  opened  the  door  and  motioned 
to  his  guest  to  precede  him. 

"  My  uncle  has  his  own  little  apartment  on  the 
other  side  of  the  house,"  he  said.  "  You  must  let  me 
take  you  to  him." 

They  moved  across  the  pleasant  white  stone  hall 
into  a  small  apartment  with  French  windows  leading 
out  to  a  flagged  terrace  and  tennis  lawn.  An  elderly 
man,  broad-shouldered,  with  weather-beaten  face, 
grey  hair,  and  of  somewhat  serious  aspect,  looked 
around  from  the  window  before  which  he  was  standing 
examining  a  case  of  fishing  flies. 

"  Uncle,  I  have  brought  an  old  friend  in  to  see 
you,"  his  nephew  announced. 

The  doctor  glanced  expectantly  at  Dominey,  half 
moved  forward  as  though  to  greet  him,  then  checked 
himself  and  shook  his  head  doubtfully. 

"  You  certainly  remind  me  very  much  of  an  old 
friend,  sir,"  he  said,  "  but  I  can  see  now  that  you 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION        123 

are  not  he.  I  do  not  believe  that  I  have  ever  seen  you 
before  in  my  life." 

There  was  a  moment's  somewhat  tense  silence. 
Then  Dominey  advanced  a  little  stiffly  and  held  out 
his  hand. 

"  Come,  Doctor,"  he  said,  "  I  can  scarcely  have 
changed  as  much  as  all  that.  Even  these  years  of 
strenuous  life  — " 

"  You  mean  to  tell  me  that  I  am  speaking  to 
Everard  Dominey?  "  the  doctor  interposed. 

"  Without  a  doubt !  " 

The  doctor  shook  hands  coolly.  His  was  certainly 
not  the  enthusiastic  welcome  of  an  old  family  attend- 
ant to  the  representative  of  a  great  family. 

"  I  should  certainly  never  have  recognised  you,"  he 
confessed. 

"  My  presence  here  is  nevertheless  indisputable," 
Dominey  continued.  "  Still  attracted  by  your  old 
pastime,  I  see.  Doctor?  " 

"  I  have  only  taken  up  fly  fishing,"  the  other  replied 
drily,  "  since  I  gave  up  shooting." 

There  was  another  somewhat  awkward  pause,  which 
the  younger  man  endeavoured  to  bridge  over. 

"  Fishing,  shooting,  golf,"  he  said ;  "  I  really  don't 
know  what  we  poor  medical  practitioners  would  do 
in  the  country  without  sport." 

"  I  shall  remind  you  of  that  later,"  Dominey  ob- 
served. "  I  am  told  that  the  shooting  is  one  of  the 
only  glories  which  has  not  passed  away  from  Domi- 
ney." 

"  I  shall  look  forward  to  the  reminder,"  was  the 
prompt  response. 


124        THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

His  uncle,  who  had  been  bending  once  more  over 
the  case  of  flies,  turned  abruptly  around. 

"  Arthur,"  he  said,  addressing  his  nephew,  "  you 
had  better  start  on  your  round.  I  dare  say  Sir 
Everard  would  like  to  speak  to  me  privately." 

"  I  wish  to  speak  to  you  certainly,"  Dominey  ad- 
mitted, "  but  only  professionally.  There  is  no  ne- 
cessity — " 

"  I  am  late  already,  if  you  will  excuse  mc,"  Doctor 
Stillwell  interrupted.  "  I  will  be  getting  on.  You 
must  excuse  my  uncle,  Sir  Everard,"  he  added  in  a 
lower  tone,  drawing  him  a  little  towards  the  door, 
"  if  his  manners  are  a  little  gruff.  He  is  devoted  to 
Lady  Dominey,  and  I  sometimes  think  that  he  broods 
over  her  case  too  much." 

Dominey  nodded  and  turned  back  into  the  room  to 
find  the  doctor,  his  hands  in  his  old-fashioned  breeches 
pockets,  eying  him  steadfastly. 

"  I  find  it  very  hard  to  believe,"  he  said  a  little 
curtly,  "  that  you  are  really  Everard  Dominey." 

"  I  am  afraid  you  will  have  to  accept  me  as  a  fact, 
nevertheless." 

*'  Your  present  appearance,"  the  old  man  contin- 
ued, eying  him  appraisingly,  "  does  not  in  any  way 
bear  out  the  description  I  had  of  you  some  years  ago. 
I  was  told  that  you  had  become  a  broken-down 
drunkard." 

"  The  world  is  full  of  liars,"  Dominey  said  equably. 
"  You  appear  to  have  met  with  one,  at  least." 

"  You  have  not  even,"  the  doctor  persisted,  "  the 
appearance  of  a  man  who  has  been  used  to  excesses  of 
anv  sort." 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION        125 

"  Good  old  stock,  ours,"  his  visitor  observed  care- 
lessl}'.  "  Plenty  of  two-bottle  men  behind  my  gen- 
eration." 

"  You  have  also  gained  courage  since  the  days 
when  you  fled  from  England.  You  slept  at  the  Hall 
last  night  .^  " 

"Where  clse.^  I  also,  if  you  want  to  know,  occu- 
pied my  own  bedchamber  —  with  results,"  Dominey 
added,  throwing  his  head  a  little  back,  to  display  the 
scar  on  his  throat,  "  altogether  insignificant." 

"That's  just  your  luck,"  the  doctor  declared. 
"  You've  no  right  to  have  gone  there  without  seeing 
me;  no  right,  after  all  that  has  passed,  to  have  even 
approached  your  wife." 

"  You  seem  rather  a  martinet  as  regards  my  do- 
mestic affairs,"  Dominey  observed. 

"  That's  because  I  know  3'our  history,"  was  the 
blunt  reply. 

Uninvited,  Dominey  seated  himself  in  an  easy- 
chair. 

"  You  were  never  my  friend.  Doctor,"  he  said. 
"  Let  me  suggest  that  we  conduct  this  conversation 
on  a  purely  professional  basis." 

"  I  was  never  your  friend,"  came  the  retort,  "  be- 
cause I  have  known  you  always  as  a  selfish  brute ;  be- 
cause you  were  married  to  the  sweetest  woman  on 
God's  earth,  gave  up  none  of  your  bad  habits,  fright- 
ened her  into  insanity  by  reel  in, fr  home  with  another 
man's  blood  on  your  hands,  and  then  stayed  away  for 
over  ten  years  instead  of  making  an  effort  to  repair 
the  mischief  you  had  done." 

"  This,"  obsei-A'ed  Dominey.  "  is  history,  dished  up 


126        THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

in  a  somewhat  partial  fashion.  I  repeat  inj'^  sugges- 
tion that  we  confine  our  conversation  to  the  profes- 
sional." 

"  This  is  my  house,"  the  other  rejoined,  "  and  you 
came  to  see  me.  I  shall  say  exactly  what  I  like  to 
you,  and  if  you  don't  like  it  you  can  get  out.  If  it 
weren't  for  Lady  Dominey's  sake,  you  shouldn't  have 
passed  this  threshold." 

"  Then  for  her  sake,"  Dominey  suggested  in  a 
softer  tone,  "  can't  3^ou  forget  how  thoroughly  you 
disapprove  of  me?  I  am  here  now  Avith  only  one 
object:  I  want  you  to  point  out  to  me  any  way  in 
which  we  can  work  together  for  the  improvement  of 
my  wife's  health." 

"  There  can  be  no  question  of  a  partnership  be- 
tween us." 

"  You  refuse  to  help  ?  " 

"  My  help  isn't  worth  a  snap  of  the  fingers.  I 
have  done  all  I  can  for  her  physically.  She  is  a  per- 
fectly sound  woman.  The  rest  depends  upon  you, 
and  you  alone,  and  I  am  not  very  hopeful  about  it." 

"Upon  me.?"  Dominey  repeated,  a  little  taken 
aback. 

"  Fidelity,"  the  doctor  grunted,  "  is  second  nature 
with  all  good  women.  Lady  Dominey  is  a  good 
woman,  and  she  is  no  exception  to  the  rule.  Her 
brain  is  star\^ed  beoause  her  heart  is  aching  for  love. 
If  she  could  believe  in  your  repentance  and  reform,  if 
any  atonement  for  the  past  were  possible  and  were 
generously  offered,  I  cannot  tell  what  the  result  might 
be.  They  tell  me  that  you  are  a  rich  man  now,  al- 
though heaven  knows,  when  one  considers  what  a  lazy, 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION        127 

selfish  fellow  you  were,  that  sounds  like  a  miracle. 
You  could  have  the  great  specialists  down.  They 
couldn't  help,  but  it  might  salve  your  conscience  to 
pay  tlicm  a  few  hundred  guineas." 

"Would  you  meet  them?"  Dominey  asked  anx- 
iously.    "  Tell  me  whom  to  send  for?  " 

"  Pooh !  Those  days  are  finished  with  me,"  was 
the  curt  reply.  "  I  would  meet  none  of  them.  I  am 
a  doctor  no  longer.  I  have  become  a  villager.  I 
go  to  see  Lady  Dominey  as  an  old  friend." 

"  Give  me  your  advice,"  Dominey  begged.  "  Is  it 
of  any  use  sending  for  specialists?  " 

"  Just  for  the  present,  none  at  all." 

"  And  what  about  that  horrible  woman,  Mrs.  Un- 
thank?" 

"  Part  of  your  task,  if  you  are  really  going  to  take 
it  up.      She  stands  between  your  wife  and  the  sun." 

"  Then  why  have  you  suffered  her  to  remain  tliere 
all  those  years?  "  Dominey  demanded. 

"  For  one  thing,  because  there  has  been  no  one  to 
replace  her,"  the  doctor  replied,  "  and  for  another, 
because  Lady  Dominey,  believing  that  you  slew  her 
son,  has  some  fantastic  idea  of  giving  her  a  home  and 
shelter  as  a  kind  of  expiation." 

"  You  think  there  is  no  affection  between  the  two?  " 
Dominey  asked. 

"  Not  a  scrap,"  was  the  blunt  reply,  "  except  that 
Lady  Dominey  is  of  so  sweet  and  gentle  a  nature  — " 

The  doctor  paused  abruptly.  His  visitor's  fingers 
had  strayed  across  his  throat. 

"  That's  a  different  matter,"  the  former  continued 
fiercely.     "  That's  just  where  the  weak  spot  in  her 


128        THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

brain  remains.  If  you  ask  me,  I  believe  it's  pandered 
to  by  Mrs.  Unthank.  Come  to  think  of  it,"  he  went 
on,  "  the  Domineys  were  never  cowards.  If  you've 
got  your  courage  back,  send  Mrs.  Unthank  away, 
sleep  with  your  doors  wide  open.  If  a  single  night 
passes  without  Lady  Dominey  coming  to  your  room 
with  a  knife  in  her  hand,  she  will  be  cured  in  time  of 
that  mania  at  any  rate.     Dare  you  do  that.''  " 

Dominey's  hesitation  was  palpable, —  also  his  agi- 
tation.    The  doctor  grinned  contemptuously. 

"  Still  afraid  !  "  he  scoffed. 

"  Not  in  the  way  you  imagine,"  his  visitor  replied. 
"  My  wife  has  already  promised  to  make  no  further 
attempt  upon  my  life." 

"  Well,  you  can  cure  her  if  you  want  to,"  the  doc- 
tor declared,  "  and  if  you  do,  you  will  have  the  sweet- 
est companion  for  life  any  man  could  have.  But 
you'll  have  to  give  up  the  idea  of  town  houses  and 
racing  and  yachting,  and  grouse  moors  in  Scotland, 
and  all  those  sort  of  things  I  suppose  you've  been 
looking  forward  to.  You'll  have  for  some  time,  at 
any  rate,  to  give  every  moment  of  your  time  to  your 
wife." 

Dominey  moved  uneasily  in  his  chair. 

"  For  the  next  few  months,"  he  said,  "  that  would 
be  impossible." 

"  Impossible !  " 

The  doctor  repeated  the  word,  seemed  to  roll  it 
round  in  his  mouth  with  a  sort  of  wondering  scorn. 

"  I  am  not  quite  the  idler  I  used  to  be,"  Dominey 
explained,  frowning.  "  Nowadays,  you  cannot  make 
money  without  assuming  responsibilities.     I  am  clear- 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION        129 

ing  off  the  whole  of  the  mortgages  upon  the  Dominey 
estates  within  the  next  few  months." 

"  How  you  spend  your  time  is  your  affair,  not 
mine,"  the  doctor  muttered.  "  All  that  I  say  about 
the  matter  is  that  your  wife's  cure,  if  ever  it  comes  to 
pass,  is  in  your  hands.  And  now  —  come  over  to  mo 
here,  in  the  light  of  this  window.  I  want  to  look  at 
you." 

Dominey  obeyed  with  a  little  shrug  of  the  shoul- 
ders. There  was  no  sunshine,  but  the  white  north 
light  was  in  its  way  searching.  It  showed  the  sprin- 
kling of  grey  in  his  rudd^^-brown  hair,  the  suspicion 
of  it  in  his  closely  trimmed  moustache,  but  it  could 
find  no  weak  spot  in  his  steady  eyes,  in  the  tan  of  his 
hard,  manly  complexion,  or  even  in  the  set  of  his 
somewhat  arrogant  lips.  The  old  doctor  took  up  his 
box  of  flies  again  and  jerked  his  head  towards  the 
door. 

"  You  are  a  miracle,"  he  said,  "  and  I  hate  mira- 
cles. I'll  come  and  see  Lady  Dominey  in  a  day 
or  so." 


CHAPTER  XII 

Dominej  spent  a  curiously  placid,  and,  to  those 
with  whom  he  was  brought  into  contact,  an  entirely 
satisfactory  afternoon.  With  Mr.  Mangan  by  his 
side,  murmuring  amiable  platitudes,  and  Mr.  Johnson, 
his  agent,  opposite,  revelling  in  the  unusual  situation 
of  a  satisfied  landlord  and  delighted  tenants,  he  made 
practically  the  entire  round  of  the  Dominey  estates. 
They  reached  home  late,  but  Dominey,  although  he 
seemed  to  be  living  in  another  world,  was  not  neglect- 
ful of  the  claims  of  hospitality.  Probably  for  the 
first  time  in  their  lives,  Mr.  Johnson  and  Lees,  the 
bailiff,  watched  the  opening  of  a  magnum  of  cham- 
pagne. Mr.  Johnson  cleared  his  throat  as  he  raised 
his  glass. 

"  It  isn't  only  on  my  own  account,  Sir  Everard," 
he  said,  "  that  I  drink  your  hearty  good  health.  I 
have  your  tenants  too  in  my  mind.  They've  had  a 
rough  time,  some  of  them,  and  they've  stood  it  like 
white  men.  So  here's  from  them  and  me  to  you,  sir, 
and  may  we  see  plenty  of  you  in  these  parts." 

Mr.  Lees  associated  himself  with  these  sentiments, 
and  the  glasses  were  speedily  emptied  and  filled  again. 

"  I  suppose  you  know.  Sir  Everard,"  the  agent 
observed,  *'  that  what  you've  promised  to  do  to-day 
will  cost  a  matter  of  ten  to  fifteen  thousand  pounds." 

Dominey  nodded. 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION        131 

*'  Before  I  go  to  bed  to-night,"  he  said,  "  I  shall 
send  a  cheque  for  twenty  thousand  pounds  to  the 
estate  account  at  your  bank  at  Wells.  The  money 
is  there  waiting,  put  aside  for  just  that  one  purpose 
and  —  well,  you  may  just  as  well  have  it." 

Agent  and  bailiff  leaned  back  in  the  tonneau  of 
their  motor-car,  half  an  hour  later,  with  immense 
cigars  in  their  mouths  and  a  pleasant,  rippling 
W'armth  in  their  veins.  They  had  the  sense  of  hay- 
ing drifted  into  fairyland.  Their  philosophy,  how- 
ever, met  the  situation. 

"  It's  a  fair  miracle,"  Mr.  Lees  declared. 

"  A  modern  romance,"  Mr.  Johnson,  who  reads 
novels,  murmured.  "  Hello,  here's  a  visitor  for  the 
Hall,"  he  added,  as  a  car  swept  by  them. 

"  Comfortable-looking  gent,  too,"  Mr.  Lees  re- 
marked. 

The  "  comfortable-looking  gent  "  was  Otto  Sea- 
man, who  presented  himself  at  the  Hall  with  a  small 
dressing-bag  and  a  great  many  apologies. 

"  Found  myself  in  Norwich,  Sir  Everard,"  he  ex- 
plained. "  I  have  done  business  there  all  my  life,  and 
one  of  my  customers  needed  looking  after.  I  finished 
early,  and  when  I  found  that  I  was  only  thirty  miles 
off  you,  I  couldn't  resist  having  a  run  across.  If  it 
is  in  any  way  inconvenient  to  put  me  up  for  the  night, 
say  so  — " 

"  ]My  dear  fellow ! "  Dominey  interrupted. 
"  There  are  a  score  of  rooms  read}'.  All  that  we 
need  is  to  light  a  fire,  and  an  old-fashioned  bed- 
warmer  will  do  the  rest.  You  remember  Mr.  Man- 
gan.^" 


132        THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

The  two  men  shook  hands,  and  Seaman  accepted  a 
little  refreshment  after  his  drive.  He  lingered  be- 
hind for  a  moment  after  the  dressing  bell  had  rung. 

"What  time  is  that  fellow  going.''  "  he  asked. 

"  Nine  o'clock  to-morrow  morning,"  Dominey  re- 
plied. 

"  Not  a  word  until  then,"  Seaman  whispered  back. 
"  I  must  not  seem  to  be  hanging  after  jon  too  much 
—  I  really  did  not  want  to  come  —  but  the  matter  is 
urgent." 

"  We  can  send  Mangan  to  bed  early,"  Domine}^ 
suggested. 

"  I  am  the  early  bird  myself,"  was  the  weary  reply. 
"  I  was  up  all  last  night.  To-morrow  morning  will 
do." 

Dinner  that  night  was  a  pleasant  and  social  meal. 
i\Ir.  ]\Iangan  especially  was  uplifted.  Everything  to 
do  with  the  Domineys  for  the  last  fifteen  years  had 
reeked  of  poverty.  He  had  really  had  a  hard  strug- 
gle to  make  both  ends  meet.  There  had  been  dis- 
agreeable interviews  with  angry  tenants,  formal  inter- 
views with  dissatisfied  mortgagees,  and  remarkably 
little  profit  at  the  end  of  the  year  to  set  against  these 
disagreeable  episodes.  The  new  situation  was  almost 
beatific.  The  concluding  touch,  perhaps,  was  in  Par- 
kins' congratulatory  whisper  as  he  set  a  couple  of 
decanters  upon  the  table. 

"  I  have  found  a  bin  of  Cockburn's  -fifty-one,  sir," 
he  announced,  including  the  lawyer  in  his  confidential 
whisper.  "  I  thought  you  might  like  to  try  a  couple 
of  bottles,  as  Mr.  Mangan  seems  rather  a  connois- 
seur, sir.  The  corks  appear  to  be  in  excellent  con- 
dition." 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION        133 

"  After  this,"  Mr.  Mangan  sighed,  "  it  will  be  hard 
to  get  back  to  the  austere  life  of  a  Pall  Mall  club !  " 

Seaman,  very  early  in  the  evening,  pleaded  an  ex- 
traordinary sleepiness  and  retired,  leaving  his  host 
and  Mangan  alone  over  the  port.  Dominey,  although 
an  attentive  host,  seemed  still  a  little  abstracted. 
Even  Mr.  Mangan,  who  was  not  an  observant  man, 
was  conscious  that  a  certain  hardness,  almost  arro- 
gance of  speech  and  manner,  seemed  temporarily  to 
have  left  his  patron. 

"  I  can't  tell  you.  Sir  Everard,"  he  said,  as  he 
sipped  his  first  glass  of  wine,  "  what  a  pleasure  it  is  to 
me  to  see,  as  it  were,  this  recrudescence  of  an  old 
family.  If  I  might  be  allowed  to  say  so,  there's  only 
one  thing  necessary  to  round  the  whole  business  off, 
as  it  were." 

"And  that.''  "  Dominey  asked  unthinkingly. 

"  The  return  of  Lady  Dominey  to  health.  I  was 
one  of  the  few,  you  may  remember,  privileged  to  make 
her  acquaintance  at  the  time  of  3'our  marriage." 

"  I  paid  a  visit  this  morning,"  Dominey  said,  "  to 
the  doctor  who  has  been  in  attendance  upon  her  since 
her  marriage.  He  agrees  with  me  that  there  is  no 
reason  why  Lady  Dominey  should  not,  in  course  of 
time,  be  restored  to  perfect  health." 

"  I  take  the  liberty  of  finishing  my  glass  to  that 
hope,  Sir  Everard,"  the  lawyer  murmured. 

Both  glasses  were  set  down  empty,  only  the  stem  of 
Dominey's  was  snapped  in  two.  Mr.  Mangan  ex- 
pressed his  polite  regrets. 

"  This  old  glass,"  he  murmured,  looking  at  his  own 
tidmiringly,  "  becomes  very  fragile." 


134        THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

Dominey  did  not  answer.  His  brain  had  served 
him  a  strange  trick.  In  the  shadows  of  the  room  he 
had  fancied  that  he  could  see  Stephanie  Eiderstrom 
holding  out  her  arms,  calling  to  him  to  fulfil  the 
pledges  of  long  ago,  and  behind  her  — 

"  Have  you  ever  been  in  love,  Mangan.f*  "  Dominey 
asked  his  companion. 

"I,  sir.?  Well,  I'm  not  sure,"  the  man  of  the 
world  replied,  a  little  startled  by  the  abruptness  of 
the  question.  "  It's  an  old-fashioned  way  of  looking 
at  things  now,  isn't  it.^^  " 

Dominey  relapsed  into  thoughtfulness. 

"  I  suppose  so,"  he  admitted. 

That  night  a  storm  rolled  up  from  somewhere 
across  that  grey  waste  of  waters,  a  storm  heralded 
by  a  wind  which  came  booming  over  the  marshes, 
shaking  the  latticed  windows  of  Dominey  Place, 
shrieking  and  wailing  amongst  its  chimneys  and 
around  its  many  corners.  Black  clouds  leaned  over 
the  land,  and  drenching  streams  of  rain  dashed 
against  the  loose-framed  sashes  of  the  windows. 
Dominey  lit  the  tall  candles  in  his  bedroom,  fastened 
a  dressing-gown  around  him,  threw  himself  into  an 
easy-chair,  and,  fixing  an  electric  reading  lamp  by  his 
side,  tried  to  read.  Very  soon  the  book  slipped  from 
his  fingers.  He  became  suddenly  tense  and  watchful. 
His  eyes  counted  one  by  one  the  panels  in  the  wall  bj 
the  left-hand  side  of  the  bed.  The  familiar  click  was 
twice  repeated.  For  a  moment  a  dark  space  ap- 
peared.    Then  a  woman,  stooping  low,  glided  into 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION        135 

the  room.  She  came  slowly  towards  him,  drawn  like 
a  moth  towards  that  semicircle  of  candle.  Her  hair 
hung  down  her  back  like  a  girl's,  and  the  white  dress- 
ing-gown which  floated  diaphanously  about  her  was 
unexpectedly  reminiscent  of  Bond  Street. 

"You  are  not  afraid.''"  she  asked  anxiously. 
"  See,  I  have  nothing  in  my  hands.  I  almost  think 
that  the  desire  has  gone.  You  remember  the  little 
stiletto  I  had  last  night?  To-day  I  threw  it  into  the 
well.     Mrs.  Unthank  was  very  angry  with  me." 

"  I  am  not  afraid,"  he  assured  her,  "  but  — " 

"Ah,  but  you  will  not  scold  me.'*"  she  begged. 
"  It  is  the  storm  which  terrifies  me." 

He  dreAv  a  low  chair  for  her  into  the  little  circle  of 
light  and  arranged  some  cushions.  As  she  sank  into 
it,  she  suddenh'  looked  up  at  him  and  smiled,  a  smile 
of  rare  and  wonderful  beauty.  Dominey  felt  for  a 
moment  something  like  the  stab  of  a  knife  at  his  heart. 

"  Sit  here  and  rest,"  he  invited.  "  There  is  noth- 
ing to  fear." 

"  In  my  heart  I  know  that,"  she  answered  simply. 
"  These  storms  are  part  of  our  lives.  They  come 
with  birth,  and  they  shake  the  world  when  death 
seizes  us.  One  should  not  be  afraid,  but  I  have  been 
so  ill,  Everard.      Shall  I  call  you  Everard  still.''  " 

"Why  not.?  "he  asked. 

"  Because  you  are  not  like  Everard  to  me  any 
more,"  she  told  him,  "  because  something  has  gone 
from  you,  and  something  has  come  to  you.  You  are 
not  the  same  man.  What  is  it?  Had  you  troubles 
in  Africa?  Did  you  learn  what  life  was  like  out 
there?" 


136        THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

He  sat  looking  at  her  for  a  moment,  leaning  back 
in  his  chair,  which  he  had  pushed  a  few  feet  into  the 
shadows.  Her  hair  was  glossy  and  splendid,  and 
against  it  her  skin  seemed  whiter  and  more  delicate 
than  ever.  Her  eyes  were  lustrous  but  plaintive,  and 
with  something  of  the  child's  fear  of  harm  in  them. 
She  looked  very  yourg  and  very  fragile  to  have  been 
swayed  through  the  j-ears  by  an  evil  passion. 

"  I  learnt  many  things  there,  Rosamund,"  he  told 
her  quicth'.  "  I  learnt  a  little  of  the  difference  be- 
tween right  doing  and  wrongdoing.  I  learned,  too, 
that  all  the  passions  of  life  burn  themselves  out,  save 
one  alone." 

She  twisted  the  girdle  of  her  dressing-gown  in  her 
fingers  for  a  moment.  His  last  speech  seemed  to  have 
been  outside  the  orbit  of  her  comprehension  or  inter- 
eot. 

"  You  need  not  be  afraid  of  me  any  more,  Ever- 
ard,"  she  said,  a  little  pathetically. 

"  I  have  no  fear  of  you,"  he  answered. 

"  Then  why  don't  you  bring  3'our  chair  forward 
and  come  and  sit  a  little  nearer  to  me?  "  she  asked, 
raising  her  eyes.  "  Do  3'ou  hear  the  wind,  how  it 
shrieks  at  us?     Oh,  I  am  afraid!" 

He  moved  forward  to  her  side,  and  took  her  hand 
gently  in  his.  Her  fingers  responded  at  once  to  his 
pressure.  When  he  spoke,  he  scarcely  recognised  his 
own  voice.      It  seemed  to  him  thick  and  choked. 

"  The  wind  shall  not  hurt  vou,  or  anything  else," 
he  promised.      "  I  have  come   back   to   take  care  of 

you." 

She  sighed,  smiled  like  a  tired  child,  and  her  eyes 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION        137 

closed   as   her   head    fell    farther   back   amongst    the 
cushions. 

"  Stay  just  like  that,  please,"  she  begged. 
"  Something  quite  new  is  coming  to  me.  I  am  rest- 
ing. It  is  the  sweetest  rest  I  ever  felt.  Don't  move, 
Everard.     Let  my  fingers  stay  in  yours  —  so." 

The  candles  burned  down  in  their  sockets,  the  wind 
rose  to  greater  furies,  and  died  away  only  as  the  dawn 
broke  through  the  storm  clouds.  A  pale  light  stole 
into  the  room.  Still  the  woman  slept,  and  still  her 
fingers  seemed  to  keep  their  clutch  upon  his  hand. 
Her  breathing  was  all  the  time  soft  and  regular. 
Her  silky  black  eyelashes  lay  motionless  upon  her  pale 
cheeks.  Her  mouth  —  a  very  perfectly  shaped 
mouth  —  rested  in  quiet  lines.  Somehow  he  realised 
that  about  this  slumber  there  was  a  new  thing.  With 
hot  eyes  and  aching  limbs  he  sat  through  the  night. 
Dream  after  dream  rose  up  and  passed  away  before 
that  little  background  of  tapestried  wall.  When  she 
opened  her  eyes  and  looked  at  him,  the  same  smile 
parted  her  lips  as  the  smile  which  had  come  there  when 
she  had  passed  away  to  sleep. 

"  I  am  so  rested,"  she  murmured.  "  I  feel  so  well. 
I  have  had  dreams,  beautiful  dreams." 

The  fire  had  burned  out,  and  the  room  was  chilly. 

"  You  must  go  back  to  your  own  room  now,"  he 
said. 

Very  slowly  her  fingers  relaxed.  She  held  out  her 
arms. 

"  Carry  me,"  she  begged.  "  I  am  only  half  awake. 
I  want  to  sleep  again." 

He  lifted  her  up.     Her  fingers  closed  around  his 


138        THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

neck,  her  head  fell  back  with  a  little  sigh  of  content. 
He  tried  the  folding  doors,  and,  finding  some  difficultj 
in  opening  them,  carried  her  out  into  the  corridor, 
into  her  own  room,  and  laid  her  upon  the  untouched 
bed. 

"  You  are  comfortable?  "  he  asked. 

"  Quite,"  she  murmured  drowsily.  "  Kiss  me, 
Everard." 

Her  hands  drew  his  face  down.  His  lips  rested 
upon  her  forehead.  Then  he  drew  the  bedclothes 
over  her  and  fled. 


CHAPTER  XIII 

There  was  a  cloud  on  Seaman's  good-humoured 
face  as,  muffled  up  in  their  overcoats,  he  and  his  host 
walked  up  and  down  the  terrace  the  next  morning, 
after  the  departure  of  Mr.  Mangan,  He  disclosed 
his  mind  a  little  abruptly. 

"  In  a  few  minutes,"  he  said,  "  I  shall  come  to  the 
great  purpose  of  my  visit.  I  have  great  and  won- 
derful news  for  you.     But  it  will  keep." 

"  The  time  for  action  has  arrived?  "  Dominey  asked 
curiously.  "  I  hope  you  will  remember  that  as  3'et  I 
am  scarcely  established  here." 

"  It  is  with  regard  to  your  establishment  here," 
Seaman  explained  dril}^  "  that  I  desire  to  say  a  word. 
We  have  seen  much  of  one  another  since  we  met  in 
Cape  Town.  The  passion  and  purpose  of  my  life 
you  have  been  able  to  judge.  Of  those  interludes 
which  are  necessary  to  a  human  being,  unless  his 
system  is  to  fall  to  pieces  as  dry  dust,  you  have  also 
seen  something.  I  trust  you  will  not  misunderstand 
me  when  I  say  that  apart  from  the  necessities  of  my 
work,  I  am  a  man  of  sentiment." 

"  I  am  prepared  to  admit  it,"  Dominey  murmured 
a  little  idly. 

"  You  have  undertaken  a  great  enterprise.  It  was, 
without  a  doubt,  a  miraculous  piece  of  fortune  which 
brought  the  Englishman,  Dominey,  to  your  camp  just 


140        THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

at  the  moment  when  you  received  your  orders  from 
headquarters.  Your  self-conceived  plan  has  met  with 
every  encouragement  from  us.  You  will  be  placed  in 
a  unique  position  to  achieve  your  final  purpose.  Now 
mark  my  words  and  do  not  misunderstand  me.  The 
very  keynote  of  our  progress  is  ruthlessness.  To 
take  even  a  single  step  forward  towards  the  achieve- 
ment of  that  purpose  is  worth  the  sacrifice  of  all  the 
scruples  and  delicacies  conceivable.  But  when  a  cer- 
tain course  of  action  i ;  without  profit  to  our  purpose, 
I  see  ugliness  in  it.      It  distresses  me." 

"  What  the  devil  do  you  mean  ?  "  Dominey  de- 
manded. 

"  I  sleep  with  one  ear  open,"  Seaman  replied. 

"Well?" 

"  I  saw  you  leave  your  room  early  this  morning," 
Seaman  continued,  "  carrying  Lady  Dominey  in  your 
arms." 

There  were  little  streaks  of  pallor  underneath  the 
tan  in  Dominey's  face.  His  eyes  were  like  glittering 
metal.  It  was  only  when  he  had  breathed  once  or 
twice  quickly  that  he  could  command  his  voice. 

"  What  concern  is  this  of  yours.''  "  he  demanded. 

Seaman  gripped  his  companion's  arm. 

"  Look  here,"  he  said,  "  we  are  too  closely  allied  for 
bluff".  I  am  here  to  help  you  fill  the  shoes  of  another 
man,  so  far  as  regards  his  estates,  his  position,  and 
character,  which,  by  the  by,  you  are  rehabilitating. 
I  will  go  further.  I  will  admit  that  it  is  not  my  con- 
cern to  interfere  in  any  ordinary  amour  you  might 
undertake,  but  —  I  shall  tell  you  this,  my  friend,  to 
your  face  —  that  to  deceive  a  lady  of  weak  intellects 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION        141 

however  beautiful,  to  make  use  of  your  position  as  her 
supposed  husband,  is  not,  save  in  the  vital  interests  of 
his  country,  the  action  of  a  Prussian  nobleman." 

Dominey's  passion  seemed  to  have  burned  itself  out 
without  expression.  He  showed  not  the  slightest  re- 
sentment at  his  companion's  words. 

"  Have  no  fear.  Seaman,"  he  enjoined  him.  "  The 
situation  is  delicate,  but  I  can  deal  with  it  as  a  man 
of  honour." 

"  You  relieve  me,"  Seaman  confessed.  "  You  must 
admit  that  the  spectacle  of  last  night  was  calculated 
to  inspire  me  with  uneasiness." 

"  I  respect  you  for  your  plain  words,"  Dominey 
declared.  "  The  fact  is,  that  Lady  Dominey  was 
frightened  of  the  storm  last  night  and  found  her  way 
into  my  room.  You  may  be  sure  that  I  treated  her 
with  all  the  respect  and  sympathy  which  our  posi- 
tions demanded," 

"  Lady  Dominey,"  Seaman  remarked  meditatively, 
"  seems  to  be  curiously  falsifying  certain  predic- 
tions." 

"  In  what  way  ?  " 

"  The  common  impression  in  the  neighbourhood 
here  is  that  she  is  a  maniac  chiefly  upon  one  subject 
—  her  detestation  of  3'ou.  She  has  been  known  to 
take  an  oath  that  you  should  die  if  3'ou  slept  in  this 
house  again.  You  naturally,  being  a  brave  man, 
ignored  all  this,  yet  in  the  morning  after  your  first 
night  here  there  was  blood  upon  your  night  clothes." 

Dominey's  eyebrows  were  slowly  raised. 

"  You  are  well  served  here,"  he  observed,  with  in- 
voluntary sarcasm. 


142        THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

"  That,  for  your  own  sake  as  well  as  ours,  is  neces- 
sary," was  the  terse  reply.  "  To  continue,  people  of 
unsound  mind  are  remarkably  tenacious  of  their 
ideas.  There  was  certainly  nothing  of  the  murderess 
in  her  demeanour  towards  you  last  night.  Cannot 
you  see  that  a  too  friendly  attitude  on  her  part  might 
become  fatal  to  our  schemes?  " 

"  In  what  way  ?  " 

"  If  ever  your  identity  is  doubted,"  Seaman  ex- 
plained, "  the  probability  of  which  is,  I  must  confess, 
becoming  less  every  day,  the  fact  that  Lady  Dominey 
seems  to  have  so  soon  forgotten  all  her  enmity  to- 
wards you  would  be  strong  presumptive  evidence  that 
you  are  not  the  man  you  claim  to  be." 

"  Ingenious,"  Dominey  assented,  "  and  very  possi- 
ble. All  this  time,  however,  we  speak  on  what  you 
yourself  admit  to  be  a  side  issue." 

"  You  are  right,"  Seaman  confessed.  "  Very  well, 
then,  listen.  A  great  moment  has  arrived  for  you, 
my  friend." 

"  Explain,  if  you  please." 

"  I  shall  do  so.  You  have  seen  proof,  during  the 
last  few  days,  that  you  have  an  organisation  behind 
you  to  whom  money  is  dross.  It  is  the  same  in  diplo- 
macy as  in  war.  Germany  will  pay  the  price  for 
what  she  intends  to  achieve.  Ninety  thousand 
pounds  was  yesterday  passed  to  the  credit  of  your 
account  for  the  extinction  of  certain  mortgages.  In 
a  few  months'  or  a  few  years'  time,  some  distant 
Dominey  will  benefit  to  that  extent.  We  cannot  re- 
cover the  money.  It  is  just  an  item  in  our  day  by 
day  expenses." 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION        143 

**  It  was  certainly  a  magnificent  way  of  establish- 
ing me,"  Dominey  admitted. 

"  Magnificent,  but  safest  in  the  long  run,"  Seaman 
declared.  "  If  you  had  returned  a  poor  man,  every- 
body's hand  would  have  been  against  you ;  suspi- 
cions, now  absolutely  unkindled,  might  have  been 
formed ;  and,  more  important,  perhaps,  than  either, 
you  would  not  have  been  able  to  take  your  place  in 
Society,  which  is  absolutely  necessary  for  the  further- 
ance of  our  scheme." 

"  Is  it  not  almost  time,"  Dominey  enquired,  "  that 
the  way  was  made  a  little  clearer  for  me.''  " 

"  That  would  have  been  my  task  this  morning," 
Seaman  replied,  "  but  for  the  news  I  bring.  In  pass- 
ing, however,  let  me  promise  you  this.  You  will  never 
be  asked  to  stoop  to  the  crooked  ways  of  the  ordi- 
nary spy.     We  want  you  for  a  different  purpose." 

"And  the  news?" 

"  What  must  be  the  greatest  desire  in  your  heart," 
Seaman  said  solemnly,  "  is  to  be  granted.  The 
Kaiser  has  expressed  a  desire  to  see  you,  to  give  you 
his  instructions  in  person." 

Dominey  stopped  short  upon  the  terrace.  He 
withdrew  his  arm  from  his  companion's  and  stared  at 
him  blankly. 

"  The  Kaiser?  "  he  exclaimed.  "  You  mean  that  I 
am  to  go  to  Germany?  " 

"  We  shall  start  at  once,"  Seaman  replied.  "  Per- 
sonally, I  do  not  consider  the  proceeding  discreet  or 
necessary.  It  has  been  decided  upon,  however,  with- 
out consulting  me." 

"  I    consider    it     suicidal,"     Dominey     protested. 


144        THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

"  What  explanation  can  I  possibly  make  for  going  to 
Germany,  of  all  countries  in  the  world,  before  I  have 
had  time  to  settle  down  here?  " 

"  That  of  itself  will  not  be  difficult,"  his  companion 
pointed  out.  "  Many  of  the  mines  in  which  a  share 
has  been  bought  in  your  name  are  being  run  with 
German  capital.  It  is  easy  to  imagine  that  a  crisis 
has  arisen  in  the  management  of  one  of  them.  We 
require  the  votes  of  our  fellow  shareholders.  You 
need  not  trouble  your  head  about  that.  And  think 
of  the  wonder  of  it !  If  only  for  a  single  day  your 
sentence  of  banishment  is  lifted.  You  will  breathe  the 
air  of  the  Fatherland  once  more." 

"  It  will  be  wonderful,"  Dominey  muttered. 

"  It  will  be  for  you,"  Seaman  promised,  "  a  breath 
of  the  things  that  are  to  come.  And  now,  action. 
How  I  love  action !  That  time-table,  my  friend,  and 
your  chauffeur." 

It  was  arranged  that  the  two  men  should  leave  dur- 
ing the  morning  for  Norwich  by  motor-car  and  thence 
to  Harwich.  Dominey,  having  changed  into  travel- 
ling clothes,  sent  a  messenger  for  Mrs.  Unthank, 
who  came  to  him  presently  in  his  study.  He  held 
out  a  chair  to  her,  which  she  declined,  however,  to 
take. 

"  Mrs.  Unthank,"  he  said,  "  I  should  like  to  know 
wliy  you  have  been  content  to  remain  my  wife's  at- 
tendant for  the  last  ten  years?  " 

Mrs.  Unthank  was  startled  by  the  suddenness  of 
the  attack. 

"  Lady  Dominey  has  needed  me,"  she  answered, 
after  a  moment's  pause. 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION        145 

"  Do  you  consider,"  he  asked,  "  that  you  have  been 
the  best  possible  companion  for  her?  " 

"  She  has  never  been  willing  to  accept  any  other," 
the  woman  replied. 

"  Are  you  very  devoted  to  m}'^  wife?  "  he  enquired. 

INIrs.  Unthank,  grim  and  fierce  though  she  was  and 
appeared  to  be,  was  obviously  disconcerted  by  Domi- 
ney's  line  of  questions. 

"  If  I  weren't,"  she  demanded,  "  shouH  I  have  been 
here  all  these  years  ?  " 

"  I  scarcely  see,"  he  continued,  "  what  particular 
claim  my  wife  has  had  upon  you.  I  understand, 
moreover,  that  you  are  one  of  those  who  firmly  believe 
that  I  killed  your  son.  Is  this  attendance  upon  my 
wife  a  Christian  act,  then  —  the  returning  of  good 
for  evil?  " 

"  Exactly  what  do  you  want  to  say  to  me.  Sir 
Everard?  "  she  asked  harshly. 

"  I  wish  to  say  this,"  Dominey  replied,  "  that  I  am 
determined  to  bring  about  my  wife's  restoration  to 
health.  For  that  reason  I  am  going  to  have  special- 
ists down  here,  and  above  all  things  to  change  for  a 
time  her  place  of  residence.  My  own  feeling  is  that 
she  will  stand  a  much  better  chance  of  recovery  with- 
out your  attendance." 

"  You  would  dare  to  send  me  away  ?  "  the  woman 
demanded. 

"  That  is  my  intention,"  Dominey  confessed.  "  I 
have  not  spoken  to  Lady  Dominey  yet,  but  I  hope 
that  very  soon  my  influence  over  her  will  be  such  that 
she  will  be  content  to  obey  my  wishes.  I  look  upon 
your  future  from  the  financial  point  of  view,  as  my 


146        THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

care.     I  shall  settle  upon  you  the  sum  of  three  hun- 
dred pounds  a  year." 

The  woman  showed  her  first  sign  of  weakness.  She 
began  to  shake.  There  was  a  curious  look  of  fear  in 
her  eyes. 

"  I  can't  leave  this  place,  Sir  Everard,"  she  cried. 
"  I  must  stay  here  !  " 

"Why?"  he  demanded. 

"  Lady  Dominey  couldn't  do  without  me,"  she  an- 
swered sullenly. 

"  That,"  he  replied,  "  is  for  her  to  decide.  Per- 
sonally, from  enquiries  I  have  made,  I  believe  that  j'ou 
have  encouraged  in  her  that  ridiculous  superstition 
about  the  ghost  of  3'our  son.  I  also  believe  that  you 
have  kept  alive  in  her  that  spirit  of  unreasonable 
hatred  which  she  has  felt  towards  me." 

"Unreasonable,  you  call  it.''"  the  woman  almost 
shouted.  "  You,  who  came  home  to  her  with  the 
blood  on  your  hands  of  the  man  whom,  if  only  you  had 
kept  away,  she  might  one  day  have  loved?  Unrea- 
sonable, 3^ou  call  it  ?  " 

"  I  have  finished  what  I  had  to  say,  Mrs.  Unthank," 
Dominey  declared.  "  I  am  compelled  by  important 
business  to  leave  here  for  two  or  three  days.  On  my 
return  I  shall  embark  upon  the  changes  with  which 
I  have  acquainted  you.  In  the  meantime,"  he  added, 
watching  a  curious  change  in  the  woman's  expres- 
sion, "  I  have  written  this  morning  to  Doctor  Har- 
rison, asking  him  to  come  up  this  afternoon  and  to 
keep  Lady  Dominey  under  his  personal  observation 
until  my  return." 

She  stood  quite  still,  looking  at  him.     Then  she 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION        147 

came  a  little  nearer  and  leaned  forward,  as  though 
studying  his  face. 

"  Eleven  years,"  she  muttered,  "  do  change  many 
men,  but  I  never  knew  a  man  made  out  of  a  weak- 
ling." 

"  I  have  nothing  more  to  say  to  you,"  Dominey 
replied,  "  except  to  let  you  know  that  I  am  coming 
to  see  my  wife  in  the  space  of  a  few  minutes." 

The  motor-horn  was  already  sounding  below  when 
Dominey  was  admitted  to  his  wife's  apartment.  She 
was  dressed  in  a  loose  gown  of  a  warm  crimson  colour, 
and  she  had  the  air  of  one  awaiting  his  arrival  ex- 
pectantly. The  passion  of  hatred  seemed  to  have 
passed  from  her  pale  face  and  from  the  depths  of  her 
strangely  soft  eyes.  She  held  out  her  hands  towards 
him.  Her  brows  were  a  little  puckered.  The  dis- 
appointment of  a  child  lurked  in  her  manner. 

"  You  are  going  away.''  "  she  murmured. 

"  In  a  very  few  moments,"  he  told  her.  "  I  have 
been  waiting  to  see  you  tor  an  hour." 

She  made  a  grimace. 

"  It  was  Mrs.  Unthank.  I  think  that  she  hid  my 
things  on  purpose.     I  was  so  anxious  to  see  you." 

"  I  want  to  talk  to  you  about  Mrs.  Unthank,"  he 
said.  "  Should  you  be  very  unhappy  if  I  sent  her 
away  and  found  some  one  younger  and  kinder  to  be 
your  companion.''" 

The  idea  seemed  to  be  outside  the  bounds  of  her 
comprehension. 

"  Mrs.  Unthank  would  never  go,"  she  declared. 
"  She  stays  here  to  listen   to   tlie  voice.     All  night 


148        THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

long  sometimes  she  waits  and  listens,  and  it  doesn't 
come.     Then  she  hears  it,  and  she  is  rested." 

"  And  you  ?  "  he  asked. 

*'  I  am  afraid,"  she  confessed.  "  But  then,  jou 
see,  I  am  not  very  strong." 

"  You  are  not  fond  of  Mrs.  Unthank?  "  he  enquired 
anxious!}'. 

"  I  don't  think  so,"  she  answered,  in  a  perplexed 
tone,  "  I  think  I  am  very  much  afraid  of  her.  But 
it  is  no  use,  Everard  !     She  would  never  go  away." 

"  When  I  return,"  Domlney  said,  "  we  shall  see." 

She  took  his  arm  and  linked  her  hands  through  it. 

"  I  am  so  sorry  that  you  are  going,"  she  murmured. 
"  I  hope  you  will  soon  come  back.  Will  3'ou  come 
back  —  my  husband?  " 

Dominej's  naik  cut  into  the  flesh  of  his  clenched 
hands. 

"  I  will  come  back  within  three  days,"  he  promised. 

"  Do  3'ou  know,"  she  went  on  confidentially,  "  some- 
thing has  come  into  my  mind  lately.  I  spoke  about  it 
yesterday,  but  I  did  not  tell  you  what  it  was.  You 
need  never  be  afraid  of  me  any  more.     I  understand." 

"  What  do  you  understand?  "  he  demanded  huskily. 

"  The  knowledge  must  have  come  to  me,"  she  went 
on,  dropping  her  voice  a  little  and  whispering  almost 
in  his  ear,  "  at  the  very  moment  when  my  dagger 
rested  upon  your  throat,  when  I  suddenly  felt  the 
desire  to  kill  die  away.  You  are  very  like  him  some- 
times, but  you  are  not  Everard.  You  are  not  my 
husband  at  all.     You  are  another  man." 

Dominey  gave  a  little  gasp.  They  both  turned 
towards  the  door.     Mrs.  Unthank  was  standing  there, 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION        149 

her  gaunt,  hard  face  lit  up  with  a  gleam  of  some- 
thing which  was   like  triumph,  her   ejes   glittering. 
Her  lips,  as  though  involuntarily,  repeated  her  mis- 
tress' last  words. 
"  Another  man  !  " 


CHAPTER  XIV 

There  were  tines  during  their  rapid  journey  when 
Seaman,  studying  his  companion,  became  thoughtfuh 
Dominey  seemed,  indeed,  to  have  passed  beyond  the 
boundaries  of  any  ordinary  reserve,  to  have  become 
like  a  man  immeshed  in  the  toils  of  a  past  so  absorb- 
ing that  he  moved  as  though  in  a  dream,  speaking 
only  when  necessary  and  comporting  himself  gen- 
erally like  one  to  whom  all  externals  have  lost  sig- 
nificance. As  they  embarked  upon  the  final  stage  of 
their  travels.  Seaman  leaned  forward  in  his  seat  in 
the  sombrely  upholstered,  overheated  compartment. 

"  Your  home-coming  seems  to  depress  you,  Von 
Ragastein,"  he  said. 

"  It  was  not  my  intention,"  Dominey  replied,  "  to 
set  foot  in  Germany  again  for  many  years." 

"The  past  still  bites,  eh.?" 

"  Always." 

The  train  sped  on  through  long  chains  of  vineyard- 
covered  hills,  out  into  a  stretch  of  flat  country,  into 
forests  of  pines,  in  the  midst  of  which  were  great 
cleared  spaces,  where,  notwithstanding  the  closely 
drawn  windows,  the  resinous  odour  from  the  fallen 
trunks  seemed  to  permeate  the  compartment.  Pres- 
ently they  slackened  speed.  Seaman  glanced  at  his 
watch  and  rose. 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION        151 

"  Prepare  yourself,  my  friend,"  he  said.  "  We 
descend  in  a  few  minutes." 

Dominey  glanced  out  of  the  window. 

"  But  where  are  we?  "  he  enquired. 

"  Within  five  minutes  of  our  destination." 

"  But  there  is  not  a  house  in  sight,"  Dominey  re- 
marked wonderingly. 

"  You  will  be  received  on  board  His  Majesty's  pri- 
vate train,"  Seaman  announced.  "  The  Kaiser,  with 
his  staff,  is  making  one  of  his  military  tours.  We 
are  honoured  b}-  being  permitted  to  travel  back  with 
him  as  far  as  the  Belgian  frontier." 

They  had  come  to  a  standstill  now.  A  bearded 
and  uniformed  official  threw  open  the  door  of  their 
compartment,  and  they  stepped  on  to  the  narrow 
wooden  platform  of  a  small  station  which  seemed  to 
have  been  recently  built  of  fresh  pine  planks.  The 
train,  immediately  they  had  alighted,  passed  on. 
Their  journey  was  over. 

A  brief  conversation  was  carried  on  between  Sea- 
man and  the  official,  during  which  Dominey  took 
curious  note  of  his  surroundings.  Around  the  sta- 
tion, half  hidden  in  some  places  by  the  trees  and 
shrubs,  was  drawn  a  complete  cordon  of  soldiers, 
who  seemed  to  have  recently  disembarked  from  a 
militarj'  train  which  stood  upon  a  siding.  In  the 
middle  of  it  was  a  solitary  saloon  carriage,  painted 
black,  with  much  gold  ornamentation,  and  having 
emblazoned  upon  the  central  panel  the  royal  arms  of 
Germany.  Seaman,  when  he  had  finished  his  con- 
versation, took  Dominey  by  the  arm  and  led  him 
across  the  line  towards  it.      An  officer  received  them 


152        THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

at  the  steps  and  bowed  punctiliously  to  Dominey,  at 
whom  he  gazed  with  much  interest. 

"  His  Majesty  will  receive  you  at  once,"  he  an- 
nounced.    "  Follow  me." 

They  boarded  the  train  and  passed  along  a  richly 
carpeted  corridor.  Their  guide  paused  and  pointed 
to  a  small  retiring-room,  where  several  men  were 
seated. 

"  Herr  Seaman  will  find  friends  there,"  he  said. 
"  His  Imperial  Majesty  will  receive  him  for  a  few 
minutes  later.  The  Baron  von  Ragastein  will  come 
this  way." 

Dominey  was  ushered  now  into  the  main  saloon. 
His  guide  motioned  him  to  remain  near  the  entrance, 
and,  himself  advancing  a  few  paces,  stood  at  the 
salute  before  a  seated  figure  who  was  bending  over 
a  map,  which  a  stern-faced  man  in  the  uniform  of  a 
general  had  unrolled  before  him.  The  Kaiser  glanced 
up  at  the  sound  of  footsteps  and  whispered  something 
in  the  general's  ear.  The  latter  clicked  his  heels 
together  and  retired.  The  Kaiser  beckoned  Dominey 
to  advance. 

"  The  Baron  von  Ragastein,  your  Majesty,"  the 
young  officer  murmured. 

Dominey  stood  at  attention  for  a  moment  and 
bowed  a  little  awkwardly.      The  Kaiser  smiled. 

"  It  pleases  me,"  he  said,  "  to  see  a  German  officer 
ill  at  ease  without  his  uniform.  Count,  you  will  leave 
us.      Baron  von  Ragastein,  be  seated." 

"  Sir  Everard  Dominey,  at  your  service.  Majesty," 
Dominey  replied,  as  he  took  the  chair  to  which  his 
august  host  pointed. 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION        153 

"  Thorough  in  all  things,  I  sec,"  the  latter  ob- 
served. "  Sit  there  and  be  at  your  ease.  Good 
reports  have  reached  me  of  your  work  in  Africa." 

"I  did  my  best  to  execute  your  Majesty's  will," 
Dominey  ventured. 

"  You  did  so  well,"  the  Kaiser  pronounced,  "  that 
my  counsellors  were  unanimous  in  advising  your  with- 
drawal to  what  will  shortly  become  the  great  centre 
of  interest.  From  the  moment  of  receiving  our  com- 
mands you  appear  to  have  displayed  initiative.  I 
gather  that  your  personation  of  this  English  baronet 
has  been  successfully  carried  through?" 

"  Up  to  the  present,  your  Majesty." 

"  Important  though  your  work  in  Africa  was," 
the  Kaiser  continued,  "  your  present  task  is  a  far 
greater  one.  I  wish  to  speak  to  you  for  these  few 
minutes  without  reserve.  First,  though,  drink  a 
toast  with  me." 

From  a  mahogany  stand  at  his  elbow,  the  Kaiser 
drew  out  a  long-necked  bottle  of  Moselle,  filled  two 
very  beautiful  glasses,  passed  one  to  his  companion 
and  raised  the  other. 

"  To  the  Fatherland  !  "  he  said. 

"  To  the  Fatherland  !  "  Dominey  repeated. 

They  set  down  their  glasses,  empty.  The  Kaiser 
threw  back  the  grey  military  cloak  which  he  w-as 
wearing,  displaying  a  long  row  of  medals  and  decora- 
tions. His  fingers  still  toyed  with  the  stem  of  his 
wineglass.  He  seemed  for  a  moment  to  lose  hireself 
in  thought.  His  hard  and  somewhat  cruel  mouUi 
was  tightly  closed;  there  was  a  slight  frown  upon 
his    forehead.     He   was    sitting   upright,    taking   no 


154        THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

advantage  of  the  cushioned  back  of  his  easy-chair, 
his  eyes  a  Httle  screwed  up,  the  frown  deepening. 
For  quite  five  minutes  there  was  complete  silence. 
One  might  have  gathered  that,  turning  aside  from 
great  matters,  he  had  been  devoting  himself  entirely 
to  the  scheme  in  which  Dominey  was  concerned. 

"  Von  Ragastein,"  he  said  at  last,  "  I  have  sent 
for  you  to  have  a  few  words  concerning  your  habita- 
tion in  England.  I  wish  you  to  receive  your  im- 
pressions of  your  mission  from  my  own  lips." 

"  Your  Majesty  does  me  great  honour,"  Dom- 
iney murmured. 

"  I  wish  you  to  consider  yourself,"  the  Kaiser  con- 
tinued, "  as  entirely  removed  from  the  limits,  the 
authority  and  the  duties  of  my  espionage  system. 
From  you  I  look  for  other  things.  I  desire  you  to 
enter  into  the  spirit  of  your  assumed  position.  As 
a  typical  English  country  gentleman  I  desire  you  to 
study  the  labour  question,  the  Irish  question,  the 
progress  of  this  National  Service  scheme,  and  other 
social  movements  of  which  you  will  receive  notice  in 
due  time.  I  desire  a  list  compiled  of  those  writers 
who,  in  the  Reviews,  or  by  means  of  fiction,  are  en- 
couraging the  suspicions  which  I  am  inclined  to  fancy 
England  has  begun  to  entertain  towards  the  Father- 
land. These  things  are  all  on  the  fringe  of  your 
real  mission.  That,  I  believe,  our  admirable  friend 
Seaman  has  already  confided  to  you.  It  is  to  seek 
the  friendship,  if  possible  the  intimacy,  of  Prince 
TernilofF." 

The  Kaiser  paused,  and  once  more  his  eyes  wan- 
dered to  tlie  landscape  which  rolled  away  from  the 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION        155 

plate-glass  windows  of  the  car.  They  were  cer- 
tainly not  the  eyes  of  a  dreamer,  and  yet  in  those 
moments  they  seemed  filled  with  brooding  pictures. 

"  The  Prince  has  already  received  me  graciously," 
Dominey  confided. 

"  Terniloff  is  the  dove  of  peace,"  the  Kaiser  pro- 
nounced. "  He  carries  the  sprig  of  olive  in  his 
mouth.  My  statesmen  and  counsellors  would  have 
sent  to  London  an  ambassador  with  sterner  quali- 
ties. I  preferred  not.  Terniloff  is  the  man  to  gull 
fools,  because  he  is  a  fool  himself.  He  is  a  fit  am- 
bassador for  a  country  which  has  not  the  wit  to 
arm  itself  on  land  as  well  as  by  sea,  when  it  sees  a 
nation,  mightier,  more  cultured,  more  splendidly  led 
than  its  own,  creeping  closer  ever}'  day." 

"  The  English  appear  to  put  their  whole  trust  in 
their  navy,  your  Majesty,"  Dominey  observed  tenta- 
tively. 

The  eyes  of  his  companion  flashed.  His  lips  curled 
contemptuously. 

"  Fools  !  "  he  exclaimed.  "  Of  what  use  will  their 
navy  be  when  my  sword  is  once  drawn,  when  I  hold 
the  coast  towns  of  Calais  and  Boulogne,  when  my 
cannon  command  the  Straits  of  Dover  J  The  days 
of  insular  nations  are  passed,  passed  as  surely  as  the 
days  of  England's  arrogant  supremacy  upon  the 
seas." 

The  Kaiser  refilled  his  glass  and  Dominey's. 

"  In  some  months'  time,  Von  Ragastein,"  he  con- 
tinued, "  \'ou  will  understand  why  you  have  been  en- 
joined to  become  the  friend  and  companion  of  Terni- 
lofF.     You  will  understand  your  mission  a  little  more 


156        THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

clearly  than  you  do  now.  Its  exact  nature  waits 
upon  developments.  You  can  at  all  times  trust  Sea- 
man." 

Dominey  bowed  and  remained  silent.  His  com- 
panion continued  after  another  brief  spell  of  silent 
brooding. 

"  Von  Ragastein,"  he  said,  "  my  decree  of  banish- 
ment against  3'ou  was  a  just  one.  The  morals  of  my 
people  are  as  sacred  to  me  as  my  oath  to  win  for  them 
a  mightier  empire.  You  first  of  all  betrayed  the  wife 
of  one  of  the  most  influential  noblemen  of  a  State 
allied  to  my  own,  and  then,  in  the  duel  that  followed, 
3"ou  slew  him." 

"  It  was  an  accident,  your  Majesty,"  Dominey 
pleaded.  "  I  had  no  intention  of  even  wounding  the 
Prince." 

The  Kaiser  frowned.  All  manner  of  excuses  were 
loathsome  to  him. 

"  The  accident  should  have  happened  the  other 
way,"  he  rejoined  sharply.  "  I  should  have  lost  a 
valuable  servant,  but  it  was  your  life  which  was 
forfeit,  and  not  his.  Still,  they  tell  me  that  your 
work  in  Africa  was  well  and  thoroughly  done.  I 
give  you  this  one  great  chance  of  rehabilitation.  If 
your  work  in  England  commends  itself  to  me,  the 
sentence  of  exile  under  which  you  suffer  shall  be  re- 
scinded." 

"  Your  Majesty  is  too  good,"  Dominey  murmured. 
"  The  work,  for  its  own  sake,  will  command  my  ever}' 
effort,  even  without  the  hope  of  reward." 

"  That,"  the  Kaiser  said,  "  is  well  spoken.  It  is 
the   spirit,   I   believe,  with   wliich   every    son   of  my 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION        157 

Empire  regards  the  future.  I  think  that  they,  too, 
more  especially  those  who  surround  my  person,  have 
felt  something  of  that  divine  message  which  has  come 
to  me.  For  many  years  I  have,  for  the  sake  of  my 
people,  willed  peace.  Now  that  the  time  draws  near 
when  Heaven  has  shown  me  another  duty,  I  have 
no  fear  but  that  every  lo^-al  German  will  bow  liis 
head  before  the  lightnings  which  will  play  around  my 
sword  and  share  with  me  the  iron  will  to  wield  it. 
Your  audience  is  finished.  Baron  von  Ragastein. 
You  will  take  your  place  with  the  gentlemen  of  my 
suite  in  the  retiring-room.  We  shall  proceed  within 
a  few  minutes  and  leave  yon  at  the  Belgian  frontier." 

Dominey  rose,  bowed  stiffly  and  backed  down  the 
carpeted  way.  The  Kaiser  was  alread}'  bending  once 
more  over  the  map.  Seaman,  who  was  waiting  out- 
side the  door  of  the  anteroom,  called  him  in  and  in- 
troduced him  to  several  members  of  the  suite.  One, 
a  3'oung  man  with  a  fixed  monocle,  scars  upon  his 
face,  and  a  queer,  puppet-like  carriage,  looked  at  him 
a  little  strangely. 

"  We  met  some  years  ago  in  Munich,  Baron,"  he 
remarked. 

"  I  acknowledge  no  former  meetings  with  any  one 
in  this  country,"  Dominey  replied  stiffly.  "  I  obe}' 
the  orders  of  my  Imperial  master  when  I  wipe  from 
my  mind  every  episode  or  reminiscence  of  my  former 
days." 

The  young  man's  face  cleared,  and  Seaman,  by  has 
side,  who  had  knitted  his  brows  thoughtfully,  nodded 
undcrstandingly. 

"  You  are  certainly  a  great  actor,  Baron,"  he  de- 


158        THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

clared.  "  Even  your  German  has  become  a  little 
English.  Sit  down  and  join  us  in  a  glass  of  beer. 
Luncheon  will  be  served  to  us  here  in  a  few  minutes. 
You  wiU  not  be  recalled  to  the  Presence  until  we  set 
you  down." 

Dominey  bowed  stiffly  and  took  his  place  with  the 
others.  The  train  had  already  started.  Dominey 
gazed  thoughtfully  out  of  the  window.  Seaman,  who 
was  waiting  about  for  his  audience,  patted  him  on 
the  arm. 

"  Dear  friend,"  he  said,  "  I  sympathise  with  you. 
You  sorrow  because  your  back  is  now  to  Berlin. 
Still,  remember  this,  that  the  day  is  not  far  off  when 
the  sentence  of  exile  against  you  wiU  be  annulled. 
You  will  have  expiated  that  crime  which,  believe  me, 
although  I  do  not  venture  to  claim  a  place  amongst 
them,  none  of  your  friends  and  equals  have  ever  re- 
garded in  the  same  light  as  His  Imperial  Majesty." 

A  smiling  steward,  in  black  livery  with  white  fac- 
ings, made  his  appearance  and  served  them  with  beer 
in  tall  glasses.  The  senior  officer  there,  who  had 
now  seated  himself  opposite  to  Dominey,  raised  his 
glass  and  bowed. 

"  To  the  Baron  von  Ragastein,"  he  said,  "  whose 
acquaintance  I  regret  not  having  made  before  to- 
day. May  we  soon  welcome  him  back,  a  brother  in 
arms,  a  companion  in  great  deeds  !     Hoch !  " 


CHAPTER  XV 

Sir  Everard  Dominey,  Baronet,  the  latest  and  most 
popular  recruit  to  Norfolk  sporting  society,  stood 
one  afternoon,  some  months  after  his  return  from 
Germany,  at  the  corner  of  the  long  wood  which 
stretched  from  the  ridge  of  hills  behind  almost  to 
the  kitchen  gardens  of  the  Hall.  At  a  reasonable 
distance  on  his  left,  four  other  guns  were  posted. 
On  one  side  of  him  stood  Middleton,  leaning  on  his 
ash  stick  and  listening  to  the  approach  of  the  beat- 
ers ;  on  the  other,  Seaman,  curiously  out  of  place  in 
his  dark  grey  suit  and  bowler  hat.  The  old  keeper, 
whom  time  seemed  to  have  cured  of  all  his  appre- 
hensions, was  softly  garrulous  and  verj'  happy. 

"  That  do  seem  right  to  have  a  Squire  Dominey  at 
this  corner,"  he  observed,  watching  a  high  cock 
pheasant  come  crashing  down  over  their  heads.  "  I 
mind  when  the  Squire,  your  father,  sir,  gave  up  this 
corner  one  day  to  Lord  Wendermere,  whom  folks 
called  one  of  the  finest  pheasant  shots  in  England, 
and  though  they  streamed  over  his  head  like  starlings, 
he'd  nowt  but  a  few  cripples  to  show  for  his  morn- 
ing's work." 

"  Come  out  with  a  bit  of  a  twist  from  the  left, 
don't  they.''  "  Dominey  remarked,  repeating  his  late 
exploit. 

"  They  do  that,  sir,"  the  old  man  assented,  "  and 


i6o        THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

no  one  but  a  Domlney  seems  to  have  learnt  the  knack 
of  dealing  with  them  proper.  That  foreign  Prince, 
so  the}'  sa}',  is  well  on  to  his  birds,  but  I  wouldn't 
trust  him  at  this  corner." 

The  old  man  moved  off  a  few  paces  to  some  higher 
ground,  to  watch  the  progress  of  the  beaters  through 
the  wood.  Seaman  turned  to  his  companion,  and 
there  was  a  note  of  genuine  admiration  in  his  tone. 

"  My  friend,"  he  declared,  "  you  are  a  miracle. 
You  seem  to  have  developed  the  Dominey  touch  even 
in  killing  pheasants." 

"  You  must  remember  that  I  have  shot  higher 
ones  in  Hungary,"  was  the  easy  repl}". 

"  I  am  not  a  sportsman,"  Seaman  admitted.  "  I 
do  not  understand  sport.  But  I  do  know  this :  there 
is  an  old  man  who  has  lived  on  this  land  since 
the  day  of  his  birth,  who  has  watched  you  shoot, 
reverently,  and  finds  even  the  way  you  hold  your 
gun  familiar." 

"  That  twist  of  the  birds,"  Dominey  explained, 
"  is  simpl}'  a  local  superstition.  The  wood  ends  on 
the  slant,  and  they  seem  to  be  flying  more  to  the 
left  than  they  really  are." 

Seaman  gazed  steadfastly  for  a  moment  along  the 
side  of  the  wood. 

"  Her  Grace  is  coming,"  he  said.  "  She  seems  to 
share  the  Duke's  dislike  of  me,  and  she  is  too  great 
a  lad}'  to  conceal  her  feelings.  Just  one  word  be- 
fore I  go.  The  Princess  Eiderstrom  arrives  this 
afternoon." 

Dominey  frowned,  then,  warned  by  the  keeper's 
shout,  turned  around  and  killed  a  hare. 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION        i6: 

**  My  friend,"  he  said,  with  a  certain  note  of  chal- 
lenge in  his  tone,  "  I  am  not  certain  that  you  have 
told  me  all  that  3'ou  know  concerning  the  Princess's 
visit." 

Seaman  was  thoughtful  for  a  brief  space  of  time. 

"  You  are  right,"  he  admitted,  "  I  have  not.  It  is 
a  fault  which  I  will  repair  presently." 

He  strolled  away  to  the  next  stand,  where  Mr. 
Mangan  was  displaying  an  altogether  different  st-and- 
ard  of  proficiency.  The  Duchess  came  up  to  Dom- 
iney  a  few  minutes  later. 

"  I  told  Henry  I  shouldn't  stop  with  him  another 
moment,"  she  declared.  "  He  has  fired  off  about 
forty  cartridges  and  wounded  one  hare." 

"  Henry  is  not  keen,"  Dominey  remarked,  "  al- 
though I  think  you  are  a  little  h;ird  on  him,  are  you 
not.-^  I  saw  him  bring  down  a  nice  cock  just  now. 
So  far  as  regards  the  birds,  it  really  does  not  matter. 
They  are  all  going  home." 

The  Duchess  was  very  smartly  tailored  in  clothes 
of  brown  heather  mixture.  She  wore  thick  shoes 
and  gaiters  and  a  small  hat.  She  was  looking  very 
well  but  a  little  annoyed. 

"  I  hear,"  she  said,  "  that  Stephanie  is  coming  to- 
day." 

Dominey  nodded,  and  seemed  for  a  moment  intent 
on  watching  the  flight  of  a  pigeon  which  kept  tanta- 
lisingl}'  out  of  range. 

"  She  is  coming  down  for  a  few  days,"  he  assented. 
"  I  am  afraid  that  she  will  be  bored  to  death." 

"Where  did  you  become  so  friendW  with  her.?" 
his  cousin  asked  curiousl3'. 


i62        THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

"  The  ifirst  time  we  ever  met,"  Dominey  replied, 
*'  was  in  the  Carlton  grill  room,  a  few  days  after 
I  landed  in  England.  She  mistook  me  for  some  one 
else,  and  we  parted  with  the  usual  apologies.  I  met 
her  the  same  night  at  Carlton  House  Terrace  —  she 
is  related  to  the  TernilofFs  —  and  we  came  across 
one  another  pretty  often  after  that,  during  the  short 
time  I  was  in  town." 

"  Yes,"  the  Duchess  murmured  meditatively. 
"  That  is  another  of  the  little  surprises  3^ou  seem  to 
have  all  ready  dished  up  for  us.  How  on  earth  dic^ 
you  become  so  friendly  with  the  German  Ambassa- 
dor.? " 

Dominey  smiled  tolerantly. 

"  Really,"  he  replied,  "  there  is  not  anything  so 
very  extraordinary  about  it,  is  there?  Mr.  Sea- 
man, my  partner  in  one  or  two  mining  enterprises, 
took  me  to  call  upon  him.  He  is  very  interested  in 
East  Africa,  politically  and  as  a  sportsman.  Our 
conversations  seemed  to  interest  him  and  led  to  a 
certain  intimacy, —  of  which  I  may  say  that  I  am 
proud.  I  have  the  greatest  respect  and  liking  for 
the  Prince." 

"  So  have  I,"  Caroline  agreed.  "  I  think  he's 
charming.  Henry  declares  that  he  must  be  either  a 
fool  or  a  knave." 

"  Henry  is  blinded  by  prejudice,"  Dominey  de- 
clared a  little  impatiently.  "  He  cannot  imagine  a 
German  who  feasts  with  any  one  else  but  the  devil." 

"  Don't  get  annoyed,  dear,"  she  begged,  resting 
her  fingers  for  a  moment  upon  his  coat  sleeve.  "  I 
admire  the  Prince  immensely.     He  is  absolutely  the 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION        163 

only  German  I  ever  met  whom  one  felt  instinctively 
to  be  a  gentleman. —  Now  what  are  you  smiling 
at?" 

Dominey  turned  a  perfectly  serious  face  towards 
her.     "  Not  guilty,"  he  pleaded. 

"  I  saw  you  smile." 

"  It  was  just  a  quaint  thought.  You  are  rather 
sweeping,  are  you  not,  Caroline?  " 

"  I'm  generally  right,"  she  declared. —  "  To  re- 
turn to  the  subject  of  Stephanie." 

"Well?" 

"  Do  you  know  whom  she  mistook  you  for  in  the 
Carlton  grill  room?  " 

"  Tell  me?  "  he  answered  evasively. 

"  She  mistook  you  for  a  Baron  Leopold  von  Ra- 
gastein,"  Caroline  continued  drily.  "  Von  Raga- 
stein  was  her  lover  in  Hungary.  He  fought  a  duel 
with  her  husband  and  killed  him.  The  Kaiser  was 
furious  and  banished  him  to  East  Africa." 

Dominey  picked  up  his  shooting-stick  and  handed 
his  gun  to  Middleton.  The  beaters  were  through  the 
wood. 

"  Yes,  I  remember  now,"  he  said.  "  She  addressed 
me  as  Leopold." 

"  I  still  don't  see  why  it  was  necessarj^  to  invite 
her  here,"  his  companion  observed  a  little  petulantly. 
"  She  may  —  call  you  Leopold  again  !  " 

"  If  she  does,  I  shall  be  deaf,"  Dominey  promised. 
"  But  seriously,  she  is  a  cousin  of  the  Princess  Terni- 
loff,  and  the  two  women  are  devoted  to  one  another. 
The  Princess  hates  shooting  parties,  so  I  thought 
they  could  entertain  one  another." 


i64        THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

"  Bosh !  ,  Stej^hanie  Tvill  monopolise  you  all  the 
time !     That's  what  she's  coming  for." 

"  You  are  not  suggesting  that  she  intends  seriously 
to  put  me  in  the  place  of  mj  double?  "  Dominey 
asked,  with  mock  alarm, 

"  Oh,  I  shouldn't  wonder !  And  she's  an  extraor- 
dinarily attractive  woman.  I'm  full  of  complaints, 
Everard.  There's  that  other  horrible  little  man. 
Seaman.  You  know  that  the  very  sight  of  him  makes 
Henry  furious.  I  am  quite  sure  that  he  never 
expected  to  sit  down  at  the  same  table  with 
him." 

"  I  am  really  sorry  about  that,"  Dominey  assured 
her,  "  but  3'ou  see  His  Excellency  takes  a  great  in- 
terest in  him  on  account  of  this  Friendship  League, 
of  which  Seaman  is  secretary,  and  he  particularly 
asked  to  have  him  here." 

"  Well,  3"ou  must  admit  that  the  situation  is  a 
little  awkward  for  Henry,"  she  complained.  "  Next 
to  Lord  Roberts,  Henry  is  practically  the  leader  of 
the  National  Service  movement  here ;  he  hates  Ger- 
many and  distrusts  every  German  he  ever  met,  and 
in  a  small  house  party  like  this  we  meet  the  German 
Ambassador  and  a  man  who  is  working  hard  to  lull 
to  sleep  the  very  sentiments  which  Henry  is  endeav- 
ouring to  arouse." 

"  It  sounds  very  pathetic,"  Dominey  admitted, 
with  a  smile,  "  but  even  Henry  likes  TerniloflP,  and 
after  all  it  is  stimulating  to  meet  one's  opponents 
sometimes." 

"  Of  course  he  likes  Terniloff,"  Caroline  assented, 
"  but  he  hates  the  things  he  stands  for.     However, 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION        165 

I'd  have  for^ven  you  everything  if  onl}'  Stephanie 
weren't  coming.  That  woman  is  really  beginning  to 
irritate  me.  She  alwaj^s  seems  to  be  making  mys- 
terious references  to  some  sentimental  past  in  which 
you  both  are  concerned,  and  for  which  there  can  be 
no  foundation  at  all  except  your  supposed  likeness 
to  her  exiled  lover.  Why,  you  never  met  her  until 
that  day  at  the  Carlton !  " 

"  She  was  a  complete  stranger  to  me,"  Dominey  as- 
serted. 

"  Then  all  I  can  say  is  that  you  have  been  un- 
usualh'  rapid  if  j^ou've  managed  to  create  a  past  in 
something  under  three  months  !  "  Caroline  pronounced 
suspiciously.  "  I  call  her  coming  here  a  most  bare- 
faced proceeding,  especially  as  this  is  practically  a 
bachelor  establishment." 

They  had  arrived  at  the  next  stand,  and  conversa- 
tion was  temporarily  suspended.  A  flight  of  wild 
duck  were  put  out  from  a  pool  in  the  wood,  and 
for  a  few  minutes  every  one  was  busy.  Middleton 
watched  his  master  with  unabated  approval. 

"  You're  most  as  good  as  the  old  Squire  with  them 
high  duck.  Sir  Everard,"  he  said.  "  That's  true 
ver}'  few  can  touch  'em  when  they're  coming  out 
nigh  to  the  pheasants.  They  can't  believe  in  the 
speed  of  'em." 

"  Do  3'ou  think  Sir  Everard  shoots  as  well  as  he 
did  before  he  went  to  Africa?"  Caroline  asked. 

Middleton  touched  his  hat  and  turned  to  Seaman, 
who  was  standing  in  the  background. 

"  Better,  your  Grace,"  he  ansv,  ered,  "  as  I  was 
saying  to  this  gentleman  here,  cai'l}'   this   morning. 


166        THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

He's  cooler  like  and  swings  more  level.  I'd  have 
known  his  touch  on  a  gun  anywhere,  though." 

There  was  a  glint  of  admiration  in  Seaman's  eyes. 
The  beaters  came  through  the  wood,  and  the  little 
party  of  guns  gossiped  together  while  the  game  was 
collected.  TernilofF,  his  usual  pallor  chased  away 
by  the  bracing  wind  and  the  pleasure  of  the  sport, 
was  affable  and  even  loquacious.  He  had  great  es- 
tates of  his  own  in  Saxony  and  was  explaining  to 
the  Duke  his  manner  of  shooting  them.  Middleton 
glanced  at  his  horn-rimmed  watch. 

"  There's  another  hour's  good  light,  sir,"  he  said. 
"  Would  you  care  about  a  partridge  drive,  or  should 
we  go  through  the  home  copse.''  " 

"  If  I  might  make  a  suggestion,"  TernilofF  ob- 
served diffidentl}',  "  most  of  the  pheasants  went  into 
that  gloomy-looking  wood  just  across  the  marshes." 

There  was  a  moment's  rather  curious  silence. 
Dominey  had  turned  and  was  looking  towards  the 
wood  in  question,  as  though  fascinated  by  its  almost 
sinister-like  blackness  and  density.  Middleton  had 
dropped  some  game  he  was  carrying  and  was  mutter- 
ing to  himself. 

"We  call  that  the  Black  Wood,"  Dominey  said 
calmly,  "  and  I  am  rather  afraid  that  the  pheasants 
who  find  their  way  there  claim  sanctuary.  What 
do  3'ou  think,  Middleton.''  " 

The  old  man  turned  his  head  slowly  and  looked  at 
his  master.  Somehow  or  other,  every  scrap  of  col- 
our seemed  to  have  faded  out  of  his  bronzed  face. 
His  eyes  were  filled  with  that  vague  horror  of  the 
supernatural   common   amongst  the  peasant  folk  of 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION        167 

various  localities.  His  voice  shook.  The  old  fear 
was  back  again. 

"  You  wouldn't  put  the  beaters  in  there,  Squire?  " 
he  faltered ;  "  not  that  there's  one  of  them  would 
go." 

"  Have  we  stumbled  up  against  a  local  supersti- 
tion.'^ "  the  Duke  enquired. 

"  That's  not  altogether  local,  your  Grace,"  Mid- 
dleton  replied,  "  as  the  Squire  himself  will  tell  you. 
I  doubt  whether  there's  a  beater  in  all  Norfolk  would 
go  through  the  Black  Wood,  if  you  paid  him  red 
gold  for  it. —     Here,  you  lads." 

He  turned  to  the  beaters,  who  were  standing  wait- 
ing for  instructions  a  few  yards  away.  There  were 
a  dozen  of  them,  stalwart  men  for  the  most  part, 
clad  in  rough  smocks  and  breeches  and  carrying  thick 
sticks. 

"  There's  one  of  the  gentlemen  here,"  Middleton 
announced,  addressing  them,  "  who  wants  to  know  if 
you'd  go  through  the  Black  Wood  of  Domine}^  for 
a  sovereign  apiece,  eh.'' —  Watch  their  faces,  your 
Grace. —     Now  then,  lads?  " 

There  was  no  possibility  of  any  mistake.  The 
very  suggestion  seemed  to  have  taken  the  healthy 
sunburn  from  their  cheeks.  They  fumbled  with  their 
sticks  uneasily.  One  of  them  touched  his  hat  and 
spoke  to  Dominey. 

"  I'm  one  as  'as  seen  it,  sir,  as  well  as  heard,"  he 
said.  "  I'd  sooner  give  up  my  farm  than  go  nigh 
the  place." 

Caroline  suddenly  passed  her  arm  through  Dom- 
iney's.     There  was  a  note  of  distress  in  her  tone. 


i68        THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

"  Henry,  you're  an  idiot !  "  she  exclaimed.  "  It 
was  my  fault,  Everard.  I'm  so  sorry.  Just  for  one 
moment  I  had  forgotten.  I  ought  to  have  stopped 
Henry  at  once.      The  poor  man  has  no  memory." 

Dominey's  arm  responded  for  a  moment  to  the  pres- 
sure of  her  fingers.     Then  he  turned  to  the  beaters. 

"  Well,  no  one  is  going  to  ask  you  to  go  to  the 
Black  Wood,"  he  promised.  "  Get  round  to  the  back 
of  Hunt's  stubbles,  and  bring  them  into  the  roots 
and  then  over  into  the  park.  We  will  line  the  park 
fence.     How  is  that,  Middleton,  eh?  " 

The  keeper  touched  his  'hat  and  stepped  briskly 
off. 

"I'll  just  have  a  walk  with  them  myself,  sir,"  he 
said.  "  Them  birds  do  break  at  Fuller's  corner. 
I'll  see  if  I  can  flank  them.  You'll  know  where  to 
put  the  guns.  Squire." 

Dominey  nodded.  One  and  all  the  beaters  were 
walking  with  most  unaccustomed  speed  towards  their 
destination.  Their  backs  were  towards  the  Black 
Wood.     Terniloff  came  up  to  his  host. 

"  Have  I,  by  chance,  been  terribly  tactless .''  "  he 
asked. 

Dominey  shook  his  head. 

"  You  asked  a  perfectly  natural  question,  Prince," 
he  replied.  "  There  is  no  reason  why  you  should  not 
know  the  truth.  Near  that  wood  occurred  the  trag- 
edy which  drove  me  from  England  for  so  many 
years." 

"  I  am  deeply  grieved,"  the  Prince  began  — 

"  It  is  false  sentiment  to  avoid  allusions  to  it," 
Dominey   interrupted.     "  I   was   attacked   there   one 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION        169 

night  by  a  man  who  had  some  cause  for  offence 
against  me.  We  fought,  and  I  reached  home  in  a 
somewhat  alarming  state.  My  condition  terrified 
my  wife  so  much  that  she  has  been  an  invalid  ever 
since.  But  here  is  the  point  which  has  given  birth 
to  all  these  superstitions,  and  which  made  me  for 
many  years  a  suspected  person.  The  man  with 
whom  I  fought  has  never  been  seen  since." 

TernilofF  was  at  once  too  fascinated  b}'  the  story 
and  puzzled  by  his  host's  manner  of  telling  it  to  main- 
tain his  apologetic  attitude. 

"  Never  seen  since !  "  he  repeated. 

"  My  own  memory  as  to  the  end  of  our  fight  is 
uncertain,"  Dominey  continued.  "  My  impression  is 
that  I  left  my  assailant  unconscious  upon  the 
ground." 

"  Then  it  is  his  ghost,  I  imagine,  who  haunts  the 
Black  Wood?" 

Dominey  shook  himself  as  one  who  would  get  rid 
of  an  unwholesome  thought. 

"  The  wood  itself,  Prince,"  he  explained,  as  they 
walked  along,  "  is  a  noisome  place.  There  are  quag- 
mires even  in  the  middle  of  it,  where  a  man  may  sink 
in  and  be  never  heard  of  again.  Every  sort  of  ver- 
min abounds  there,  every  unclean  insect  and  bird  are 
to  be  found  in  the  thickets.  I  suppose  the  character 
of  the  place  has  encouraged  the  local  superstition  in 
which  every  one  of  those  men  firmly  believes." 

"  They  absolutely  believe  the  place  to  be  haunted, 
then.?" 

"  The  superstition  goes  further,"  Dominey  contin- 
ued.    "  Our  locals  say  that  somewhere  in  the  heart 


170        THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

of  the  wood,  where  I  believe  that  no  human  being  for 
many  years  has  dared  to  penetrate,  there  is  living  in 
the  spiritual  sense  some  sort  of  a  demon  who  comes 
out  only  at  night  and  howls  underneath  my  win- 
dows." 

"  Has  any  one  ever  seen  it?  " 

"  One  or  two  of  the  villagers ;  to  the  best  of  my 
belief,  no  one  else,"  Dominey  replied. 

Terniloff  seemed  on  the  point  of  asking  more 
questions,  but  the  Duke  touched  him  on  the  arm  and 
drew  him  on  one  side,  as  though  to  call  his  attention 
to  the  sea  fogs  which  were  rolling  up  from  the 
marshes. 

"  Prince,"  he  whispered,  "  the  details  of  that  story 
are  inextricably  mixed  up  with  the  insanity  of  Lady 
Dominey.     I  am  sure  you  understand." 

The  Prince,  a  diplomatist  to  his  fingertips,  ap- 
peared shocked,  although  a  furtive  smile  still  lingered 
upon  his  lips. 

"  I  regret  my  faux  pas  most  deeply,"  he  murmured. 
"  Sir  Everard,"  he  went  on,  "  you  promised  to  tell 
me  of  some  of  your  days  with  a  shotgun  in  South 
Africa.  Isn't  there  a  bird  there  which  corresponds 
with  your* partridges.-^  " 

Dominey  smiled. 

"  If  you  can  kill  the  partridges  which  Middleton 
is  going  to  send  over  in  the  next  ten  minutes,"  he 
said,  "  you  could  shoot  anything  of  the  sort  that 
comes  along  in  East  Africa,  with  a  catapult.  If 
you  will  stand  just  a  few  paces  there  to  the  left, 
Henry,  Terniloff  by  the  gate,  Stillwell  up  by  the 
left-hand   corner,  Mangan   next,   Eddy  next,   and  I 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION        171 

shall  be  just  beyond  towards  the  oak  clump.  Will 
you  walk  with  me,  Caroline?  " 

His  cousin  took  his  arm  as  they  walked  off  and 
pressed  it. 

"  Everard,  I  congratulate  you,"  she  said.  "  You 
have  conquered  your  nerve  absolutely.  You  did  a 
simple  and  a  fine  thing  to  tell  the  whole  story.  Why, 
you  were  almost  matter-of-fact.  I  could  even  have 
imagined  you  were  telling  it  about  some  one  else." 

Her  host  smiled  enigmatically. 

"  Curious  that  it  should  have  struck  you  like  that," 
he  remarked.  "  Do  you  know,  when  I  was  telling  it 
I  had  the  same  feeling. —  Do  you  mind  crouching 
down  a  little  now.''     I  am  going  to  blow  the  whistle." 


CHAPTER  XVI 

Even  in  the  great  dining-room  of  Dominey  Hall, 
the  mahogan}'  table  which  was  its  great  glory  was 
stretched  that  evening  to  its  extreme  capacity.  Be- 
sides the  house  party,  which  included  the  Right  Hon- 
ourable Gerald  Watson,  a  recently  appointed  Cabinet 
Minister,  there  were  several  guests  from  the  neigh- 
bourhood —  the  Lord  Lieutenant  of  the  Count^^  and 
other  notabilities.  Caroline,  with  the  Lord  Lieu- 
tenant on  one  side  of  her  and  Terniloff  on  the  other, 
played  the  part  of  hostess  adequately  but  without 
enthusiasm.  Her  eyes  seldom  left  for  long  the  other 
end  of  the  table,  where  Stephanie,  at  Dominey's  left 
hand,  wath  her  crown  of  exquisitely  coifFured  red- 
gold  hair,  her  marvellous  jewellery,  her  languorous 
grace  of  manner,  seemed  more  like  one  of  the  beauties 
of  an  ancient  Venetian  Court  than  a  modern  Hun- 
garian Princess  gowned  in  the  Rue  de  la  Paix.  Con- 
versation remained  chiefly  local  and  concerned  the 
day's  sport  and  kindred  topics.  It  was  not  until  to- 
wards the  close  of  the  meal  that  the  Duke  succeeded 
in  launching  his  favourite  bubble. 

"  I  trust,  Everard,"  he  said,  raising  his  voice  a 
little  as  he  turned  towards  his  host,  "  that  you  make 
a  point  of  inculcating  the  principles  of  National 
Service  into  your  tenantry  here." 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION        173 

Dominey's  reply  was  a  little  dubious. 

"  I  am  afraid  the^'  do  not  take  to  the  idea  very 
kindly  in  this  part  of  the  world,"  he  confessed. 
"  Purely  agricultural  districts  are  always  a  little  diffi- 
cult." 

"  It  is  your  duty  as  a  landowner,"  the  Duke  in- 
sisted, "  to  alter  their  point  of  view.  There  is  not 
the  slightest  doubt,"  he  added,  looking  belligerently 
over  the  top  of  his  pince  nez  at  Seaman,  who  was 
seated  at  the  opposite  side  of  the  table,  "  that  before 
long  we  shall  find  ourselves  —  and  in  a  shocking  state 
of  unpreparedness,  mind  you  —  at  war  with  Ger- 
many." 

Lady  Maddeley,  the  wife  of  the  Lord  Lieutenant, 
who  sat  at  his  side,  seemed  a  little  startled.  She  was 
probably  one  of  the  onh^  people  present  who  was  not 
aware  of  the  Duke's  foible. 

"  Do  you  really  think  so.?  "  she  asked.  "  The  Ger- 
mans seem  such  civilised  people,  so  peaceful  and  do- 
mestic in  their  home  life,  and  that  sort  of  thing." 

The  Duke  groaned.  He  glanced  down  the  table  to 
be  sure  that  Prince  TernilofF  was  out  of  hearing. 

"  My  dear  Lady  Maddeley,"  he  declared,  "  Ger- 
many is  not  governed  like  England.  When  the  war 
comes,  the  people  will  have  had  nothing  to  do  with 
it.  A  great  many  of  them  will  be  just  as  surprised 
as  you  will  be,  but  they  will  fight  all  the  same." 

Seaman,  who  had  kept  silence  during  the  last  few 
moments  with  great  difficulty,  now  took  up  the  Duke's 
challenge. 

"  Permit  me  to  assure  3'ou,  madam,"  he  said,  bow- 
ing across  the  table,  "  that  the  war  with  Germany 


174        THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

of  which  the  Duke  is  so  afraid  will  never  come.  I 
speak  with  some  amount  of  knowledge  because  I  am 
a  German  by  birth,  although  naturalised  in  this  coun- 
try. I  have  as  many  and  as  dear  friends  in  Berlin 
as  in  London,  and  with  the  exception  of  my  recent 
absence  in  Africa,  where  I  had  the  pleasure  to  meet 
our  host,  I  spend  a  great  part  of  my  time  going  back 
and  forth  between  the  two  capitals.  I  have  also  the 
honour  to  be  the  secretary  of  a  society  for  the  pro- 
motion of  a  better  understanding  between  the  citizens 
of  Germany  and  England." 

"  Rubbish  !  "  the  Duke  exclaimed.  "  The  Germans 
don't  want  a  better  understanding.  They  only  want 
to  fool  us  into  believing  that  they  do." 

Seaman  looked  a  little  pained.  He  stuck  to  his 
guns,  however. 

"  His  Grace  and  I,"  he  observed,  "  are  old  op- 
ponents on  this  subject." 

"  We  are  indeed,"  the  Duke  agreed.  "  You  may 
be  an  honest  man,  Mr.  Seaman,  but  you  are  a  very 
ignorant  one  upon  this  particular  topic." 

"  You  are  probably  both  right  in  your  way,"  Dom- 
iney  intervened,  very  much  in  the  manner  of  a  well- 
bred  host  making  his  usual  effort  to  smooth  over  two 
widely  divergent  points  of  view.  "  There  is  no  doubt 
a  war  party  in  Germany  and  a  peace  party,  states- 
men who  place  economic  progress  first,  and  others 
who  are  tainted  with  a  purely  military  lust  for  con- 
quest. In  this  country  it  is  very  hard  for  us  to 
strike  a  balance  between  the  two." 

Seaman  beamed  his  thanks  upon  his  host. 

"  I  have   friends,"   he   said   impressively,   "  in  the 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION        175 

very  highest  circles  of  German}',  who  are  continuall}' 
encouraging  my  work  here,  and  I  have  received  the 
benediction  of"  the  Kaiser  himself  upon  my  efforts  to 
promote  a  better  feeling  in  this  country.  And  if 
3^ou  will  forgive  my  saying  so,  Duke,  it  is  such  ill- 
advised  and  ill-founded  statements  as  you  are  con- 
stantly making  about  my  country  which  is  the  only 
bar  to  a  better  understanding  between  us." 

"  I  have  my  views,"  the  Duke  snapped,  "  and  they 
have  become  convictions.  I  shall  continue  to  express 
them  at  all  times  and  with  all  the  eloquence  at  my 
command." 

The  Ambassador,  to  whom  portions  of  this  con- 
versation had  now  become  audible,  leaned  a  little  for- 
ward in  his  place. 

"  Let  me  speak  first  as  a  private  individual,"  he 
begged,  "  and  express  my  well-studied  opinion  that 
war  between  our  two  countries  would  be  simply  race 
suicide,  an  indescribable  and  an  abominable  crime. 
Then  I  will  remember  what  I  represent  over  here, 
and  I  will  venture  to  add  in  my  ambassadorial  ca- 
pacity that  I  come  with  an  absolute  and  heartfelt 
mandate  of  peace.  My  task  over  here  is  to  secure 
and  ensure  it." 

Caroline  flashed  a  warning  glance  at  her  hus- 
band. 

"  How  nice  of  you  to  be  so  frank.  Prince !  "  she 
said.  "  The  Duke  sometimes  forgets,  in  the  pursuit 
of  his  hobby,  that  a  private  dinner  table  is  not  a 
platform.  I  insist  upon  it  that  we  discuss  some- 
thing of  more  genuine  interest." 

"  There  isn't  a  more  vital  subject  in  the  world," 


176        THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

the  Duke  declared,  resigning  himself,  however,  to  si- 
lence. 

"  We  will  speak,"  the  Ambassador  suggested,  "  of 
the  way  in  which  our  host  brought  down  those  tall 
pheasants." 

"  You  will  tell  me,  perhaps,"  Seaman  suggested  to 
the  lad}'  on  his  right,  "  how  j'ou  English  women  have 
been  able  to  secure  for  yourselves  so  much  more  lib- 
erty than  our  German  wives  enjoy.''  " 

"  Later  on,"  Stephanie  whispered  to  her  host,  with 
a  little  tremble  in  her  voice,  "  I  have  a  surprise  for 
you." 

After  dinner,  Dominej-'s  guests  passed  naturally 
enough  to  the  relaxations  which  each  preferred. 
There  were  two  bridge  tables,  TernilofF  and  the  Cab- 
inet Minister  played  billiards,  and  Seaman,  with  a 
touch  which  amazed  every  one,  drew  strange  music 
from  the  yellow  keys  of  the  old-fashioned  grand  piano 
in  the  dra^^^ng-room.  Stephanie  and  her  host  made 
a  slow  progress  through  the  hall  and  picture  gallery. 
For  some  time  their  conversation  was  engaged  solely 
with  the  objects  to  which  Dominey  drew  his  com- 
panion's attention.  \^Tien  they  had  passed  out  of 
possible  hearing,  however,  of  any  of  the  other  guests, 
Stephanie's  fingers  tightened  upon  her  companion's 
arm. 

"  I  wish  to  speak  to  you  alone,"  she  said,  "  without 
the  possibility  of  any  one  overhearing." 

Dominey  hesitated  and  looked  behind. 

"  Your  guests  are  well  occupied,"  she  continued  a 
little  impatiently,  "  and  in  any  case  I  am  one  of  them. 
I  claim  your  attention." 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION        177 

Domine^f  threw  open  the  door  of  the  library  and 
turned  on  a  couple  of  the  electric  lights.  She  made 
her  way  to  the  great  open  fireplace,  on  which  a  log 
was  burning,  looked  down  into  the  shadows  of  the 
room  and  back  again  into  her  host's  face. 

"  For  one  moment,"  she  begged,  "  turn  on  all  the 
lights.      I  wish  to  be  sure  that  we  are  alone." 

Domlney  did  as  he  was  bidden.  The  furthermost 
corners  of  the  room,  with  its  many  wings  of  book- 
filled  shelves,  were  illuminated.      She  nodded. 

"  Now  turn  them  all  out  again  except  this  one," 
she  directed,  "  and  wheel  me  up  an  easy-chair. —  No, 
I  choose  this  settee.  Please  seat  yourself  by  my 
side." 

"  Is  this  going  to  be  serious.'*  "  he  asked,  with  some 
slight  disquietude. 

"  Serious  but  wonderful,"  she  murmured,  lifting 
her  eyes  to  his.  "  Will  you  please  listen  to  me,  Leo- 
pold.?" 

She  was  half  curled  up  in  a  corner  of  the  settee, 
her  head  resting  slightly  upon  her  long  fingers,  her 
brown  e3'es  steadily  fixed  upon  her  companion. 
There  was  an  atmosphere  about  her  of  serious  yet 
of  tender  things.  Dominey's  face  seemed  to  fall  into 
more  rigid  lines  as  he  realised  the  appeal  of  her  eyes. 

"  Leopold,"  she  began,  "  I  left  this  country  a  few 
weeks  ago,  feeling  that  you  were  a  brute,  determined 
never  to  see  you  again,  half  inclined  to  expose  you 
before  I  went  as  an  impostor  and  a  charlatan.  Ger- 
many means  little  to  me,  and  a  patriotism  which  took 
no  account  of  human  obligations  left  me  absolutely 
unresponsive.      I  meant  to  go  home  and  never  to  re- 


178       THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

turn  to  London.  My  heart  was  bruised,  and  I  was 
very  unhappy." 

She  paused,  but  her  companion  made  no  sign.  She 
paused  for  so  long,  however,  that  speech  became  nec- 
essary. 

"  You  are  speaking,  Princess,"  he  said  calmly,  "  to 
one  who  is  not  present.  My  name  is  no  longer  Leo- 
pold." 

She  laughed  at  him  with  a  curious  mixture  of  ten- 
derness and  bitterness. 

"  My  friend,"  she  continued,  "  I  am  terrified  to 
think,  besides  3'our  name,  how  much  of  humanity  you 
have  lost  in  your  new  identity.  To  proceed,  it 
suited  my  convenience  to  remain  for  a  few  days  in 
Berlin,  and  I  was  therefore  compelled  to  present  my- 
self at  Potsdam.  There  I  received  a  great  surprise. 
Wilhelm  spoke  to  me  of  you,  and  though,  alas  !  my 
heart  is  still  bruised,  he  helped  me  to  understand." 

"  Is  this  wise?  "  he  asked  a  little  desperately. 

She  ignored  his  words. 

"  I  was  taken  back  into  favour  at  Court,"  she 
went  on.  "  For  that  I  owe  to  you  my  thanks.  Wil- 
helm was  much  impressed  by  your  recent  visit  to 
him,  and  by  the  way  in  which  you  have  established 
yourself  here.  He  spoke  also  with  warm  commen- 
dation of  your  labours  in  Africa,  which  he  seemed  to 
appreciate  all  the  more  as  you  were  sent  there  an 
exile.  He  asked  me,  Leopold,"  she  added,  dropping 
her  voice  a  little,  "  if  my  feelings  towards  you  re- 
mained unchanged." 

Dominey's  face  remained  unrelaxed.  Persistently 
he  refused  the  challenge  of  her  eyes. 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION        179 

"  I  told  him  the  truth,"  she  proceeded.  "  I  told 
him  how  it  all  began,  and  how  it  must  last  with  me  — 
to  the  end.  We  spoke  even  of  the  duel.  I  told  him 
what  both  your  seconds  had  explained  to  me, —  that 
turn  of  the  wrist,  Conrad's  wild  lunge,  how  he  liter- 
ally threw  himself  upon  the  point  of  your  sword. 
Wilhelm  understands  and  forgives,  and  he  has  sent 
you  this  letter." 

She  drew  a  small  grey  envelope  from  her  pocket. 
On  the  seal  were  the  Imperial  Hohenzollern  arms. 
She  passed  it  to  him. 

"  Leopold,"  she  whispered,  "  please  read  that." 

He  shook  his  head,  although  he  accepted  the  letter 
with  reluctant  fingers. 

"  Leopold  again,"  he  muttered.  "  It  is  not  for 
me." 

"  Read  the  superscription,"  she  directed. 

He  obeyed  her.  It  was  addressed  in  a  strange, 
straggling  handwriting  to  Sir  Everard  Dominey, 
Baronet.  He  broke  the  seal  unwillingly  and  drew 
out  the  letter.  It  was  dated  barely  a  fortnight  back. 
There  was  neither  beginning  nor  ending;  just  a  cou- 
ple of  sentences  scrawled  across  the  thick  notepaper : 

"  It  is  my  will  that  you  offer  your  hand  in  marriage  to 
the  Princess  Stephanie  of  Eiderstrom.  Your  union 
shall  be  blessed  by  the  Church  and  approved  by  my 
Court. 

"  Wilhelm.'' 

Dominey  sat  as  a  man  enthralled  with  silence.  She 
watched  him. 

"Not  on  your  knees  yet.''"  she  asked,  with  faint 


i8o        THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

but  somewhat  resentful  irony.  "  Can  it  be,  Leo- 
pold, that  vou  have  lost  your  love  for  me?  You 
have  changed  so  much  and  in  so  many  ways.  Has 
the  love  gone.''  " 

Even  to  himself  his  voice  sounded  harsh  and  un- 
natural, his  words  instinct  with  the  graceless  cruelty 
of  a  clown. 

"  This  is  not  practical,"  he  declared.  "  Think ! 
I  am  as  I  have  been  addressed  here,  and  as  I  must 
remain  yet  for  months  to  come  —  Everard  Dominey, 
an  Englishman  and  the  owner  of  this  house  —  the 
husband  of  Lady  Dominey." 

"Where  is  your  reputed  wife.''"  Stephanie  de- 
manded, frowning. 

"  In  the  nursing  home  where  she  has  been  for  the 
last  few  months,"  he  replied.  "  She  has  already 
practically  recovered.  She  cannot  remain  there 
much  longer." 

"  You  must  insist  upon  it  that  she  does." 

"  I  ask  you  to  consider  the  suspicions  which  would 
be  excited  by  such  a  course,"  Dominey  pleaded 
earnestly,  "  and  further,  can  you  explain  to  me  in 
what  way  I,  having  already,  according  to  the  belief 
of  everybody,  another  wife  living,  can  take  advan- 
tage of  this  mandate.''  " 

She  looked  at  him  wonderingly. 

"You  make  difficulties?  You  sit  there  like  the 
cold  Englishman  whose  place  you  are  taking,  you 
whose  tears  have  fallen  before  now  upon  my  hand, 
whose  lips  - — " 

"  You  speak  of  one  who  is  dead,"  Dominey  inter- 
rupted, "  dead  until  the  coming  of  great  events  may 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION        i8i 

bring  him  to  life  again.  Until  that  time  your  lover 
must  be  dumb." 

Then  her  anger  blazed  out.  She  spoke  incoher- 
ently, passionately,  dragged  his  face  down  to  hers 
and  clenched  her  fist  the  next  moment  as  though  she 
would  have  struck  it.  She  broke  down  with  a  storm 
of  tears. 

"  Not  so  hard  —  not  so  hard,  Leopold !  "  she  im- 
plored. "  Oh !  yours  is  a  great  task,  and  3'ou  must 
carr}'  it  through  to  the  end,  but  we  have  his  permis- 
sion —  there  can  be  found  a  way  —  we  could  be  mar- 
ried secretly.  At  least  your  lips  —  your  arms  !  My 
heart  is  starved,  Leopold." 

He  rose  to  his  feet.  Her  arms  were  still  twined 
about  his  neck,  her  lips  hungrj'  for  his  kisses,  her 
eyes  shining  up  into  his. 

"  Have  pity  on  me,  Stephanie,"  he  begged.  "  Un- 
til our  time  has  come  there  is  dishonour  even  in  a 
single  kiss.  Wait  for  the  day,  the  dsij  you  know 
of." 

She  unwound  her  arms  and  shivered  slightly.  Pier 
hurt  eyes  regarded  him  wonderingly. 

"  Leopold,"  she  faltered,  "  what  has  changed  you 
like  this.-^  What  has  dried  up  all  the  passion  in  you? 
You  are  a  different  man.     Let  me  look  at  you." 

She  caught  him  by  the  shoulders,  dragged  him  un- 
derneath the  electric  globe,  and  stood  there  gazing 
into  his  face.  The  great  log  upon  the  hearth  was 
spluttering  and  fizzing.  Through  the  closed  door 
came  the  faint  wave  of  conversation  and  laughter 
from  outside.  Her  breathing  was  uneven,  her  eyes 
were  seeking  to  rend  the  mask  from  his  face. 


i82        THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

"  Can  you  have  learnt  to  care  for  any  one  else?  " 
she  muttered.  "  There  were  no  women  in  Africa. 
This  Rosamund  Dominey,  your  reputed  wife  —  they 
tell  me  that  she  is  beautiful,  that  you  have  been  kind- 
ness itself  to  her,  that  her  health  has  improved  since 
your  coming,  that  she  adores  you.  You  wouldn't 
dare  — " 

"  No,"  he  interrupted,  "  I  should  not  dare." 

"  Then  what  are  you  looking  at.-^  "  she  demanded. 
"Tell  me  that?" 

His  eyes  were  following  the  shadowed  picture  which 
had  passed  out  of  the  room.  He  saw  once  more  the 
slight,  girlish  form,  the  love-seeking  light  in  those 
pleading  dark  eyes,  the  tremulous  lips,  the  whole 
sweet  appeal  for  safety  from  a  frightened  child  to 
him,  the  strong  man.  He  felt  the  clinging  touch  of 
those  soft  fingers  laid  upon  his,  the  sweetness  of  those 
marvellously  awakened  emotions,  so  cruelly  and 
drearily  stifled  through  a  cycle  of  years.  The  wom- 
an's passion  by  his  side  seemed  suddenly  tawdry  and 
unreal,  the  seeking  of  her  lips  for  his  something 
horrible.  His  back  was  towards  the  door,  and  it 
was  her  cry  of  angi'y  dismay  which  first  apprised 
him  of  a  welcome  intruder.  He  swung  around  to  find 
Seaman  standing  upon  the  threshold  —  Seaman,  to 
him  a  very  angel  of  deliverance. 

"  I  am  indeed  sorry  to  intrude.  Sir  Everard,"  the 
newcomer  declared,  with  a  shade  of  genuine  concern 
on  his  round,  good-humoured  face.  "  Something  has 
happened  which  I  thought  you  ought  to  know  at 
once.      Can  you  spare  me  a  moment?  " 

The  Princess  swept  past  them  without  a  word  of 


He  swung  around  to  find  Seaman  standing  upon  tlie  threshold. 

Page  182. 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION        183 

farewell  or  a  backward  glance.  She  had  the  carriage 
and  the  air  of  an  insulted  queen.  A  shade  of  deeper 
trouble  came  into  Seaman's  face  as  he  stepped  re- 
spectfully on  one  side. 

"What  is  it  that  has  happened.''"  Dominey  de- 
manded. 

"  Lady  Dominey  has  returned,"  was  the  quiet  re- 


CHAPTER  XVII 

It  seemed  to  Dominej-  that  he  had  never  seen  any- 
thing more  pathetic  than  that  eager  glance,  half  of 
hope,  half  of  apprehension,  flashed  upon  him  from 
the  strange,  tired  eyes  of  the  woman  who  was  stand- 
ing before  the  log  fire  in  a  little  recess  of  the  main 
hall.  By  her  side  stood  a  pleasant,  friendly  looking 
person  in  the  uniform  of  a  nurse ;  a  yard  or  two  be- 
hind, a  maid  carrying  a  jewel  case.  Rosamund,  who 
had  thrown  back  her  veil,  had  been  standing  with 
her  foot  upon  the  fender.  Her  whole  expression 
changed  as  Dominey  came  hastily  towards  her  with 
outstretched  hands. 

"  My  dear  child,"  he  exclaimed,  "  welcome  home !  " 

"  Welcome.'' ''  she  repeated,  with  a  little  glad  catch 
in  her  throat.     "  You  mean  it?  " 

With  a  self-control  of  which  he  gave  no  sign,  he 
touched  the  lips  which  were  raised  so  eagerly  to  his 
as  tenderly  and  reverently  as  though  this  were  some 
strange  child  committed  to  his  care. 

"  Of  course  I  mean  it,"  he  answered  heartily. 
"  But  what  possessed  you  to  come  without  giving  us 
notice.^     How  was  this,  nurse.''  " 

"  Her  ladyship  has  had  no  sleep  for  two  nights," 
the  latter  replied.  "  She  has  been  so  much  better 
that  we  dreaded  the  thought  of  a  relapse,  so  Mrs. 


THE  GRE/^T  IMPERSONATION        185 

Coulson,  our  matron,  thought  it  best  to  let  her  have 
her  own  way  about  coniin<T.  Instead  of  telegraphing 
to  you,  unfortunate!}',  we  telegraphed  to  Doctor  Har- 
rison, and  I  believe  he  is  away." 

"  Is  it  very  wrong  of  me?  "  Rosamund  asked,  cling- 
ing to  Dominej^'s  arm.  "  I  had  a  sudden  feeling  that 
I  must  get  back  here.  I  wanted  to  see  you  again. 
Every  one  has  been  so  sweet  and  kind  at  Falmouth, 
especially  Nurse  Alice  here,  but  the}'  weren't  quite 
the  same  thing.  You  are  not  angry?  These  people 
who  are  sta^-ing  here  will  not  mind?  " 

"  Of  course  not,"  he  assured  her  cheerfully. 
"  They  will  be  your  guests.  To-morrow  you  must 
make  friends  with  them  all." 

"  There  was  a  very  beautiful  woman,"  she  said 
timidly,  "  with  red  hair,  who  passed  by  just  now. 
She  looked  very  angr}'.  That  was  not  because  I  have 
come?  " 

"  Why  should  it  be?  "  he  answered.  "  You  have  a 
right  here  - —  a  better  right  than  any  one." 

She  drew  a  long  sigh  of  contentment. 

"  Oh,  but  this  is  wonderful !  "  she  cried.  "  And 
3'ou,  dear  —  I  shall  call  you  Everard,  mayn't  I?  — 
v^ou  look  just  as  I  hoped  3'Ou  might.  Will  you  take 
me  upstairs,  please?     Nurse,  you  can  follow  us." 

She  leaned  heavily  on  his  arm  and  even  loitered  on 
the  wa}',  but  her  steps  grew  lighter  as  they  ap- 
proached her  own  apartment.  Finally,  as  they 
reached  the  corridor,  she  broke  away  from  him  and 
tripped  on  with  the  gaiet}'  almost  of  a  child  to  the 
door  of  her  room.  Then  came  a  little  cry  of  disap- 
pointment as  she  flung  open  the  door.      Several  maids 


i86        THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

were  there,  busy  with  a  refractory  fire  and  removing 
the  covers  from  the  furniture,  but  the  room  was  half 
full  of  smoke  and  entirely  unprepared. 

"  Oh,  how  miserable !  "  she  exclaimed.  "  Everard, 
what  shall  I  do.?" 

He  threw  open  the  door  of  his  own  apartment.  A 
bright  fire  was  burning  in  the  grate,  the  room  was 
warm  and  comfortable.  She  threw  herself  with  a 
little  cry  of  delight  into  the  huge  Chesterfield  drawn 
up  to  the  edge  of  the  hearthrug. 

"  I  can  stay  here,  Everard,  can't  I,  until  you  come 
up  to  bed.''  "  she  pleaded.  "  And  then  you  can  sit  and 
talk  to  me,  and  tell  me  who  is  here  and  all  about  the 
people.  You  have  no  idea  how  much  better  I  am. 
All  my  music  has  come  back  to  me,  and  they  say 
that  I  play  bridge  ever  so  well.  I  shall  love  to  help 
you  entertain." 

The  maid  was  slowly  unfastening  her  mistress's 
boots.     Rosamund  held  up  her  foot  for  him  to  feel. 

"See  how  cold  I  am!"  she  complained.  "Please 
rub  it.  I  am  going  to  have  some  supper  up  here 
with  nurse.  Will  one  of  you  maids  please  go  down 
and  see  about  it.''  What  a  lot  of  nice  new  things 
you  have,  Everard ! "  she  added,  looking  around. 
"  And  that  picture  of  me  from  the  drawing-room, 
on  the  table !  "  she  cried,  her  eyes  suddenly  soft  with 
joy.  "  You  dear  thing !  What  made  you  bring  that 
up.?" 

"  I  wanted  to  have  it  here,"  he  told  her. 

"  I'm  not  so  nice  as  that  now,"  she  sighed,  a  little 
wistfully. 

"  Do   not   believe   it,"   he   answered.     "  You   have 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION        187 

not  changed  in  the  least.  You  will  be  better-looking 
still  when  you  have  been  here  for  a  few  months." 

She  looked  at  him  almost  shyly  —  tenderly,  jet 
still  with  that  gleam  of  aloofness  in  her  eyes. 

"I  think,"  she  murmured,  "I  shall  be  just  what 
you  want  me  to  be.  I  think  you  could  make  me  just 
what  you  want.  Be  very  kind  to  me,  please,"  she 
begged,  stretching  her  arms  out  to  him.  "  I  sup- 
pose it  is  because  I  have  been  ill  so  long,  but  I  feel 
so  helpless,  and  I  love  3^our  strength  and  I  want  you 
to  take  care  of  me.  Your  own  hands  are  quite  cold," 
she  added  anxiously.  "  You  look  pale,  too.  You're 
not  ill,  Everard.''  " 

"  I  am  very  well,"  he  assured  her,  struggling  to 
keep  his  voice  steady.  "  Forgive  me  now,  won't  you, 
if  I  hurry  away.  There  are  guests  here  —  rather 
important  guests.  To-morrow  you  must  come  and 
see  them  all." 

"  And  help  you  ?  " 

"  And  help  me." 

Dominey  made  his  escape  and  went  reeling  down 
the  corridor.  At  the  top  of  the  great  quadrangular 
landing  he  stopped  and  stood  with  half-closed  eyes 
for  several  moments.  From  downstairs  he  could  hear 
the  sound  of  pleasantly  raised  voices,  the  music  of  a 
piano  in  the  distance,  the  click  of  billiard  balls.  He 
waited  until  he  had  regained  his  self-possession. 
Then,  as  he  was  on  the  point  of  descending,  he  saw 
Seaman  mounting  the  stairs.  At  a  gesture  he  waited 
for  him,  waited  until  he  came,  and,  taking  him  by 
the  arm,  led  him  to  a  great  settee  in  a  dark  corner. 


i88        THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

Seaman  had  lost  his  usual  blitheness.  The  good- 
humoured  smile  played  no  longer  about  his  lips. 

"  Where  is  Lady  Dominey  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  In  my  room,  waiting  until  her  own  is  prepared." 

Seaman's  manner  was  unusually  grave. 

"  My  friend,"  he  said,  "  you  know  very  well  that 
when  we  walk  in  the  great  paths  of  life  I  am  un- 
scrupulous. In  those  other  hours,  alac !  I  have  a 
weakness. —     I  love  women." 

"  Well.?  "  Dominey  muttered. 

"  I  will  admit,"  the  other  continued,  "  that  you  are 
placed  in  a  delicate.and  trying  position.  Lady  Dom- 
iney seems  disposed  to  offer  to  you  the  affection 
which,  notwithstanding  their  troubles  together,  she 
doubtless  felt  for  her  husband.  I  risk  your  anger, 
my  friend,  but  I  warn  you  to  be  very  careful  how 
you  encourage  her." 

A  light  flashed  in  Dominey's  eyes.  For  the  mo- 
ment angry  words  seemed  to  tremble  upon  his  lips. 
Seaman's  manner,  however,  was  very  gentle.  He 
courted  no  offence. 

"  If  you  were  to  take  advantage  of  your  position 
with  —  with  any  other,  I  would  shrug  my  shoulders 
and  stand  on  one  side,  but  this  mad  Englishman's 
wife,  or  rather  his  widow,  has  been  mentally  ill.  She 
is  still  weak-minded,  just  as  she  is  tender-hearted.  I 
watched  her  as  she  passed  through  the  hall  with  you 
just  now.  She  turns  to  you  for  love  as  a  flower  to 
the  sun  after  a  long  spell  of  cold,  wet  weather.  Von 
Ragastein,  you  are  a  man  of  honour.  You  must 
find  means  to  deal  with  this  situation,  however  diffi- 
cult it  may  become." 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION        189 

Dominey  had  recovered  from  his  first  wave  of  weak- 
ness. His  companion's  words  excited  no  sentiment 
of  anger.  He  was  conscious  even  of  regarding  him 
with  a  greater  feeling  of  kindness  than  ever  before. 

"  My  friend,"  he  said,  "  you  have  shown  me  that 
you  are  conscious  of  one  dilemma  in  which  I  find 
myself  placed,  and  which  I  must  confess  is  exercising 
me  to  the  utmost.  Let  me  now  advise  you  of  an- 
other. The  Princess  Eiderstrom  has  brought  me  an 
autograph  letter  from  the  Kaiser,  commanding  me  to 
marry  her." 

"  The  situation,"  Seaman  declared  grimly,  "  but 
for  its  serious  side,  would  provide  all  the  elements 
for  a  Palais  Royal  farce.  For  the  present,  how- 
ever, you  have  duties  below.  I  have  said  the  words 
which  were  thumping  against  the  walls  of  my 
heart." 

Their  descent  was  opportune.  Some  of  the  local 
guests  were  preparing  to  make  their  departure,  and 
Dominey  was  in  time  to  receive  their  adieux.  They 
all  left  messages  for  Lady  Dominey,  spoke  of  a  speedy 
visit  to  her,  and  expressed  themselves  as  delighted 
to  hear  of  her  return  and  recovery.  As  the  last  car 
rolled  away,  Carohne  took  her  host's  arm  and  led 
him  to  a  chimney  seat  by  the  huge  log  fire  in  the 
inner  hall. 

"  My  dear  Everard,"  she  said,  "  you  rer.ll}'  are  a 
very  terrible  person," 

"  Exactly  why.''  "  he  demanded, 

"  Your  devotion  to  my  sex,"  she  continued,  "  is 
flattering  but  far  too  catholic.  Your  return  to  Eng- 
land appears  to  have  done  what  we  understood  to 


igo        THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

be  impossible  —  restored  your  wife's  reason.  A 
fiery-headed  Hungarian  Princess  has  pursued  you 
down  here,  and  has  now  gone  to  her  room  in  a  tan- 
trum because  you  left  her  side  for  a  few  minutes  to 
welcome  your  wife.  And  there  remains  our  own  sen- 
timental little  flirtation,  a  broken  and,  alas,  a  dis- 
carded thing !  There  is  no  doubt  whatever,  Everard, 
that  you  are  a  verj'  bad  lot." 

"  You  are  distressing  me  terribly,"  Dominey  con- 
fessed, "  but  all  the  same,  after  a  somewhat  agitated 
evening  I  must  admit  that  I  find  it  pleasant  to  talk 
with  some  one  who  is  not  wielding  the  lightnings. 
May  I  have  a  whisky  and  soda?  " 

"  Bring  me  one,  too,  please,"  Caroline  begged. 
"  I  fear  that  it  will  seriousl}'  impair  the  note  which 
I  had  intended  to  strike  in  our  conversation,  but  I 
am  thirsty.  And  a  handful  of  those  Turkish  ciga- 
rettes, too.  You  can  devote  yourself  to  me  with  a 
perfectly  clear  conscience.  Your  most  distinguished 
guest  has  found  a  task  after  his  own  heart.  He  has 
got  Henry  in  a  corner  of  the  billiard-room  and  is 
trying  to  convince  him  of  what  I  am  sure  the  dear 
man  really  believes  himself  —  that  Germany's  in- 
tentions towards  England  are  of  a  particularly  dove- 
like nature.  Your  Right  Honourable  guest  has  gone 
to  bed,  and  Eddy  Pelham  is  playing  billiards  with 
Mr.  Mangan.  Every  one  is  happy.  You  can  de- 
vote yourself  to  soothing  my  wounded  vanity,  to  say 
nothing  of  my  broken  heart." 

"  Always  gibing  at  me,"  Dominey  gi-umbled. 

"  Not  always,"  she  answered  quieth",  raising  her 
eyes  for  a  moment.     "  There  was  a  time,  Everard, 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION        191 

before  that  terrible  tragedy  —  the  last  time  you 
stayed  at  Dunratter  —  when  I  didn't  gibe." 

"  When,  on  the  contrary,  you  were  sweetness  it- 
self," he  reflected. 

She  sighed  reminiscently. 

"  That  was  a  wonderful  month,"  she  murmured. 
"  I  think  it  was  then  for  the  first  time  that  I  saw 
traces  of  something  in  you  which  I  suppose  accounts 
for  your  being  what  3'ou  are  to-day." 

"  You  think  that  I  have  changed,  then?  " 

She  looked  him  in  the  eyes. 

"  I  sometimes  find  it  difficult  to  believe,"  she  ad- 
mitted, "  that  you  are  the  same  man." 

He  turned  away  to  reach  for  his  whisky  and  soda. 

"  As  a  matter  of  curiosity,"  he  asked,  "  why.''  " 

"  To  begin  with,  then,"  she  commented,  "  you  have 
become  almost  a  precisian  in  your  speech.  You 
used  to  be  rather  slang\'  at  times." 

"Whr.t  else.?" 

"  You  used  always  to  clip  your  final  g's." 

"  Shocking  habit,"  he  murmured.  "  I  cured  my- 
self of  that  by  reading  aloud  in  the  bush. —  Go  on, 
please?  " 

"  You  carr\'  3'ourself  so  much  more  stiffly.  Some- 
times you  have  the  air  of  being  surprised  that  you 
ai*e  not  in  uniform." 

"  Trifles,  all  these  things,"  he  declared.  "  Now 
for  something  serious?  " 

"  The  serious  things  are  pretty  good,"  she  ad- 
mitted. "  You  used  to  drink  whiskys  and  sodas  at 
all  hours  of  the  day,  and  quite  as  much  wine  as  was 
good  for  you  at  dinner  time.     Now,  although  you  are 


192        THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

a  wonderful  host,  you  scarcely  take  anything  your- 
self." 

"  You  should  see  me  at  the  port,"  he  told  her, 
"  when  you  ladies  are  well  out  of  the  way !  Some 
more  of  the  good,  please?  " 

"  All  your  best  qualities  seem  to  have  come  to  the 
surface,"  she  went  on,  "  and  I  think  that  the  way 
you  have  come  back  and  faced  it  all  is  simply  won- 
derful. Tell  me,  if  that  man's  body  should  be  dis- 
covered after  all  these  years,  would  you  be  charged 
with  manslaughter.''  " 

He  shook  his  head.  "  I  do  not  think  so,  Caro- 
line." 

"  Everard." 

"Well.?" 

"  Did  you  kill  Roger  Unthank?  " 

A  portion  of  the  burning  log  fell  on  to  the  hearth. 
Then  there  was  silence.  They  heard  the  click  of 
the  billiard  balls  in  the  adjoining  room.  Dominey 
leaned  forward  and  with  a  pair  of  small  tongs  re- 
placed the  burning  wood  upon  the  fire.  Suddenly  he 
felt  his  hands  clasped  by  his  companion's. 

"  Everard  dear,"  she  said,  "  I  am  so  sorry.  You 
came  to  me  a  little  tired  to-night,  didn't  you.f*  I 
think  that  you  needed  sympathy,  and  here  I  am  ask- 
ing you  once  more  that  horrible  question.  Forget  it, 
please.  Talk  to  me  like  your  old  dear  self.  Tell 
me  about  Rosamund's  return.''  Is  she  really  recov- 
ered, do  you  think.''  " 

"  I  saw  her  only  for  a  few  minutes,"  Dominey  re- 
plied, "  but  she  seemed  to  me  absolutely  better.  I 
must   say  that   the   weekl}'   reports   I  have   received 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION        193 

from  the  nursing  home  quite  prepared  me  for  a  great 
improvement.  She  is  very  frail,  and  her  eyes  still 
have  that  restless  look,  but  she  talks  quite  coher- 
ently." 

"  What  about  that  horrible  woman  ?  " 

"  I  have  pensioned  :Mrs.  Unthank.  To  my  sur- 
prise I  hear  that  she  is  still  living  in  the  village." 

"  And  your  ghost?  " 

"  Not  a  single  howl  all  the  time  that  Rosamund 
has  been  away." 

"  There  is  one  thing  more,"  Caroline  began  hesi- 
tatingly. 

That  one  thing  lacked  forever  the  clothing  of 
words.  There  came  a  curious,  almost  a  dramatic  m- 
terruption.  Through  the  silence  of  the  hall  there 
pealed  the  summons  of  the  great  bell  which  hung  over 
the  front  door.  Dominey  glanced  at  the  clock  in 
amazement. 

"  Midnight !  "  he  exclaimed.  "  Who  on  earth  can 
be  coming  here  at  this  time  of  night ! " 

Instinctively  they  both  rose  to  their  feet.  A  man- 
servant had  turned  the  great  kev,  drawn  the  bolts, 
and  opened  the  door  with  difficulty.  Little  flakes  of 
snow  and  a  gust  of  icy  wind  swept  into  the  hall,  and 
following  them  the  figure  of  a  man,  white  from  head 
to  foot,  his  hair  tossed  with  the  wind,  almost  un- 
recognisable after  his  struggle. 

"  Why,  Doctor  Harrison !  "  Dominey  cried,  taking 
a  quick  step  forward.  "  What  brings  you  here  at 
this  time  of  night !  " 

The  doctor  leaned  upon  his  stick  for  a  moment. 
He   was   out   of  breath,   and   the   melting  snow   was 


194        THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

pouring  from  his  clothes  on  to  the  oak  floor.  They 
relieved  him  of  his  coat  and  dragged  him  towards  the 
fire. 

"  I  must  apologise  for  disturbing  you  at  such  an 
hour,"  he  said,  as  he  took  the  tumbler  which  Dom- 
incy  pressed  into  his  hand.  "  I  have  only  just  re- 
ceived Lady  Dominey's  telegram.  I  had  to  see  you 
—  at  once." 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

The  doctor,  with  hi-s  usual  bluntness,  did  not  hesi- 
tate to  make  it  known  that  this  unusual  visit  was  of 
a  private  nature.  Caroline  promptly  withdrew,  and 
the  two  men  were  left  alone  in  the  great  hall.  The 
lights  in  the  billiard-room  and  drawing-room  were 
extinguished.  Every  one  in  the  house  except  a  few 
servants  had  retired. 

"  Sir  Everard,"  the  doctor  began,  "  this  return  of 
Lady  Dominey's  has  taken  me  altogether  by  sur- 
prise. I  had  intended  to-morrow  morning  to  discuss 
the  situation  with  you." 

"  I  am  most  anxious  to  hear  your  report,"  Dom- 
iney  said. 

"  My  report  is  good,"  was  the  confident  answer. 
"  Although  I  would  not  have  allowed  her  to  have  left 
the  nursing  home  so  suddenly  had  I  known,  there  was 
nothing  to  keep  her  there.  Lady  Dominey,  except 
for  one  hallucination,  is  in  perfect  health,  mentally 
and  phvsically." 

"  And  this  one  hallucination  ?  " 

"  That  you  are  not  her  husband." 

Dominey  was  silent  for  a  moment.  Then  he 
laughed  a  little  unnaturally. 

"  Can  a  person  be  perfectly  sane,"  he  asked,  "  and 
yet  be  subject  to  an  hallucination  which  must  make 
the  whole  of  her  surroundings  seem  unreal.?  " 


196        THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

"  Lady  Dominey  is  perfectly  sane,"  the  doctor  an- 
swered bluntly,  "  and  as  for  that  hallucination,  it  is 
up  to  you  to  dispel  it." 

"  Perhaps  you  can  give  me  some  advice?  "  Dominey 
suggested. 

"  I  can,  and  I  am  going  to  be  perfectly  frank  with 
you,"  the  doctor  replied.  "  To  begin  with  then, 
there  are  certain  obvious  changes  in  you  which  might 
well  minister  to  Lady  Dominey's  hallucination.  For 
instance,  you  have  been  in  England  now  some  eight 
months,  during  which  time  you  have  revealed  an 
entirely  new  personality.  You  seem  to  have  got  rid 
"  of  every  one  of  your  bad  habits,  you  drink  moder- 
ately, as  a  gentleman  should,  you  have  subdued  your 
violent  temper,  and  you  have  collected  around  you, 
where  your  personality  could  be  the  only  inducement, 
friends  of  distinction  and  interest.  This  is  not  at 
all  what  one  expected  from  the  Everard  Dominey 
who  scuttled  out  of  England  a  dozen  years  ago." 

"  You  are  excusing  my  wife,"  Dominey  remarked. 

"  She  needs  no  excuses,"  was  the  brusque  reply. 
*'  She  has  been  a  long-enduring  and  faithful  woman, 
suffering  from  a  cruel  illness,  brought  on,  to  take 
the  kindest  view  of  it,  through  your  clumsiness  and 
lack  of  discretion.  Like  all  good  women,  forgiveness 
is  second  nature  to  her.  It  has  now  become  her  wish 
to  take  her  proper  place  in  life." 

"  But  if  her  hallucination  continues,"  Dominey 
asked,  "  if  she  seriously  doubts  that  I  am  indeed  her 
husband,  how  can  she  do  that  ?  " 

"  That  is  the  problem  you  and  I  have  to  face," 
the  doctor  said  sternly.     "  The  fact  that  your  wife 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION        197 

has  been  willing  to  return  here  to  you,  whilst  still 
subject  to  that  hallucination,  is  a  view  of  the  matter 
which  I  can  neither  discuss  nor  understand.  I  am 
here  to-night,  though,  to  lay  a  charge  upon  you. 
You  have  to  remember  that  your  wife  needs  still  one 
step  towards  a  perfect  recovery,  and  until  that  step 
has  been  surmounted  you  have  a  very  difficult  but 
imperative  task." 

Dominey  set  his  teeth  for  a  moment.  He  felt  the 
doctor's  keen  grey  eyes  glowering  from  under  his 
shaggy  eyebrows  as  he  leaned  forward,  his  hands  upon 
his  knees. 

"  You  mean,"  Dominey  suggested  quietly,  "  that 
until  that  hallucination  has  passed  we  must  remain 
upon  the  same  terms  as  we  have  done  since  my  arrival 
home." 

"  You've  got  it,"  the  doctor  assented.  "  It's  a 
tangled-up  position,  but  we've  got  to  deal  with  it  — 
or  rather  you  have.  I  can  assure  you,"  he  went  on, 
"  that  all  her  other  delusions  have  gone.  She  speaks 
of  the  ghost  of  Roger  Unthank,  of  the  cries  at  night, 
of  his  mysterious  death,  as  parts  of  a  painful  past. 
She  is  quite  conscious  of  her  several  attempts  upon 
your  life  and  bitterly  regrets  them.  Now  we  come 
to  the  real  danger.  She  appears  to  be  possessed  of 
a  passionate  devotion  towards  you,  whilst  still  believ- 
ing that  you  are  not  her  husband." 

Dominey  pushed  his  chair  back  from  the  fire  as 
though  he  felt  the  heat.  His  eyes  seemed  glued  upon 
the  doctor's. 

"  I  do  not  pretend,"  the  latter  continued  gravely, 
"  to  account  for  that,  but  it  is  my  duty  to  warn  you, 


igS        THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

Sir  Everard,  that  that  devotion  may  lead  her  to 
great  lengths.  Lady  Dominey  is  naturally  of  an 
exceedingly  affectionate  disposition,  and  this  return 
to  a  stronger  condition  of  physical  health  and  a 
fuller  share  of  human  feelings  has  probably  reawak- 
ened all  those  tendencies  which  her  growing  fondness 
for  you  and  your  position  as  her  reputed  husband 
make  perfectly  natural.  I  warn  you,  Sir  Everard, 
that  you  may  find  your  position  an  exceedingly  diffi- 
cult one,  but,  difficult  though  it  may  be,  there  is  a 
plain  duty  before  you.  Keep  and  encourage  your 
wife's  affection  if  you  can,  but  let  it  be  a  charge  upon 
you  that  whilst  the  hallucination  remains  that  affec- 
tion must  never  pass  certain  bounds.  Lady  Dominey 
is  a  good  and  a  sweet  woman.  If  she  woke  up  one 
morning  with  that  hallucination  still  in  her  mind,  and 
any  sense  of  guilt  on  her  conscience,  all  our  labours 
for  these  last  months  might  well  be  wasted,  and  she 
herself  might  very  possibly  end  her  days  in  a  mad- 
house." 

"  Doctor,"  Dominey  said  firml}'.  "  I  appreciate 
every  word  you  say.     You  can  rely  upon  me." 

The  doctor  looked  at  him. 

"  I  believe  I  can,"  he  admitted,  with  a  sigh  of  re- 
lief.    "  I  am  glad  of  it." 

"  There  is  just  one  more  phase  of  the  position," 
Dominey  went  on,  after  a  pause.  "  Supposing  this 
hallucination  of  hers  should  pass?  Supposing  she 
should  suddenly  become  convinced  that  I  am  her  hus- 
band.? " 

"  In  that  case,"  the  doctor  replied  earnestly,  "  the 
position  would  be  exactly  reversed,  and  it  would  be 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION        199 

just  as  important  for  you  not  to  check  the  affection 
wliich  she  might  offer  to  you  as  it  would  be  in  the 
other  case  for  you  to  accept  it.  The  moment  she 
reahses,  with  her  present  predispositions,  that  you 
really  are  her  lawful  husband,  that  moment  will  be 
the  beginning  of  a  new  life  for  her." 

Somehow  they  both  seemed  to  feel  that  the  last 
words  had  been  spoken.  After  a  brief  pause,  the 
doctor  helped  himself  to  a  farewell  drink,  filled  his 
pipe  and  stood  up.  The  car  which  Dominey  had 
ordered  from  the  garage  was  already  standing  at 
the  door.  It  was  curious  how  both  of  them  seemed 
disinclined  to  refer  again  even  indirectly  to  the  sub- 
ject which  they  had  been  discussing. 

"  Very  good  of  you  to  send  me  back,"  the  doctor 
said  gruffly.  "  I  started  out  all  right,  but  it  was  a 
drear  walk  across  the  marshes." 

"  I  am  ver}'  grateful  to  you  for  coming,"  Dominey 
replied,  with  obvious  sincerity.  "  You  will  come  and 
have  a  look  at  the  patient  in  a  day  or  two.''  " 

"  I'll  stroll  across  as  soon  as  you've  got  rid  of 
some  of  this  houseful,"  the  doctor  promised.  "  Good 
night !  " 

The  two  men  parted,  and  curiously  enough  Dom- 
iney was  conscious  that  with  those  few  awkward 
words  of  farewell  some  part  of  the  incipient  antagon- 
ism between  them  had  been  buried.  Left  to  himself, 
he  wandered  for  some  moments  up  and  down  the 
great,  dimly  lit  hall.  A  strange  restlessness  seemed 
to  have  fastened  itself  upon  him.  He  stood  for  a 
time  by  the  dj'ing  fire,  watching  the  grey  ashes, 
stirred  uneasily  by  the  wind  which  howled  down  the 


200        THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

chimney.  Then  he  strolled  to  a  different  part  of 
the  hall,  and  one  by  one  he  turned  on,  by  means  of 
the  electric  switches,  the  newly  installed  lights  which 
hung  above  the  sombre  oil  pictures  upon  the  wall. 
He  looked  into  the  faces  of  some  of  these  dead 
Domineys,  trying  to  recall  what  he  had  heard  of  their 
history,  and  dwelling  longest  upon  a  gallant  of  the 
Stuart  epoch,  whose  misdeeds  had  supplied  material 
for  every  intimate  chronicler  of  those  da3^s.  When 
at  last  the  sight  of  a  sleepy  manservant  hovering  in 
the  background  forced  his  steps  upstairs,  he  still  lin- 
gered for  a  few  moments  in  the  corridor  and  turned 
the  handle  of  his  bedroom  door  with  almost  reluctant 
fingers.  His  heart  gave  a  great  jump  as  he  realised 
that  there  was  some  one  there.  He  stood  for  a  mo- 
ment upon  the  threshold,  then  laughed  shortly  to  him- 
self at  his  foolish  imagining.  It  was  his  servant  who 
was  patiently  awaiting  his  arrival. 

"  You  can  go  to  bed,  Dickens,"  he  directed.  "  I 
shall  not  want  you  again  to-night.  We  shoot  in  the 
morning." 

The  man  silently  took  his  leave,  and  Dominey  com- 
menced his  preparations  for  bed.  He  was  in  no  hu- 
mour for  sleep,  however,  and,  still  attired  in  his  shirt 
and  trousers,  he  wrapped  a  dressing-gown  around 
him,  drew  a  reading  lamp  to  his  side,  and  threw  him- 
self into  an  easA'-chair,  a  book  in  his  hand.  It  was 
some  time  before  he  realised  that  the  volume  was  up- 
side down,  and  even  when  he  had  righted  it,  the  words 
he  saw  had  no  meaning  for  him.  All  the  time  a  queer 
procession  of  women's  faces  was  passing  before  his 
eyes  —  Caroline,  with  her  half-flirtatious,  wholly  sen- 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION        201 

timental  bon  camaraderie;  Stephanie,  with  her  vohip- 
tuous  figure  and  passion-lit  eyes ;  and  then,  blotting 
the  others  utterly  out  of  his  thoughts  and  memory, 
Rosamund,  with  all  the  sweetness  of  life  shining  out 
of  her  eager  face.  He  saw  her  as  she  had  come  to 
him  last,  with  that  little  unspoken  cry  upon  her  trem- 
ulous lips,  and  the  haunting  appeal  in  her  soft  eyes. 
All  other  memories  faded  away.  They  were  as 
though  they  had  never  been.  Those  dreary  years  of 
exile  in  Africa,  the  day  by  day  tension  of  his  precari- 
ous life,  were  absolutely  forgotten.  His  heart  was 
calling  all  the  time  for  an  unknown  boon.  He  felt 
himself  immeshed  in  a  world  of  cobwebs,  of  weakness 
more  potent  than  all  his  boasted  strength.  Then  he 
suddenly  felt  that  the  madness  which  he  had  begun  to 
fear  had  really  come.  It  was  the  thing  for  which  he 
longed  yet  dreaded  most  —  the  faint  click,  the  soft 
withdrawal  of  the  panel,  actually  pushed  back  by  a 
pair  of  white  hands.  Rosamund  herself  was  there. 
Her  eyes  shone  at  him,  mystically,  wonderfully.  Her 
lips  were  parted  in  a  delightful  smile,  a  smile  in  which 
there  was  a  spice  of  girlish  mischief.  She  turned  for 
a  moment  to  close  the  panel.  Then  she  came  towards 
him  with  her  finger  upraised. 

"  I  cannot  sleep,"  she  said  softly.  "  Do  you  mind 
my  coming  for  a  few  minutes .''  " 

"  Of  course  not,"  he  answered.  "  Come  and  sit 
down." 

She  curled  up  in  his  easy-chair. 

"  Just  for  a  moment,"  she  murmured  contentedh\ 
"  Give  me  your  hands,  dear.  But  how  cold !  You 
must  come  nearer  to  the  fire  yourself." 


202        THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

He  sat  on  the  arm  of  her  chair,  and  she  stroked 
his  head  with  her  hands. 

"  You  were  not  afraid,  then,"  she  asked,  "  when 
you  saw  me  come  through  the  panel?  " 

"  I  should  never  be  afraid  of  any  harm  that  you 
might  bring  me,  dear,"  he  assured  her. 

"  Because  all  that  foolishness  is  really  gone,"  she 
continued  eagerly.  "  I  know  that  whatever  hap- 
pened to  poor  Roger,  it  was  not  you  who  killed  him. 
Even  if  I  heard  his  ghost  calling  again  to-night,  I 
should  have  no  fear.  I  can't  think  why  I  ever  wanted 
to  hurt  3^ou,  Everard.  I  am  sure  that  I  always  loved 
you." 

His  arm  went  very  softly  around  her.  She  re- 
sponded to  his  embrace  without  hesitation.  Her 
cheek  rested  upon  his  shoulder,  he  felt  the  warmth  of 
her  arm  through  her  white,  fur-lined  dressing-gown. 

"  Why  do  you  doubt  any  longer  then,"  he  asked 
hoarsely,  "  that  I  am  your  husband.''  " 

She  sighed. 

"  All,  but  I  know  you  are  not,"  she  answered.  "  Is 
it  w^rong  of  me  to  feel  what  I  do  for  you,  I  wonder? 
You  are  so  like  yet  so  unlike  him.  He  is  dead.  He 
died  in  Africa.  Isn't  it  strange  that  I  should  know 
it?     But  I  do!" 

"  But  who  am  I  then?  "  he  whispered. 

She  looked  at  him  pitifully. 

"  I  do  not  know,"  she  confessed,  "  but  you  are  kind 
to  me,  and  when  I  feel  you  are  near  I  am  happy.  It 
is  because  I  wanted  to  see  you  that  I  would  not  stay 
any  longer  at  the  nursing  home.  That  must  mean 
that  I  am  very  fond  of  you." 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION        203 

"  You  are  not  afraid,"  he  asked,  "  to  be  here  alone 
with  me?  " 

She  put  her  other  arm  around  his  neck  and  drew 
his  face  down. 

"  I  am  not  afraid,"  she  assured  him.  "  I  am 
happy. —  But,  dear,  what  is  the  matter.''  A  mo- 
ment ago  you  were  cold.  Now  your  head  is  wet,  your 
hands  are  burning.  Are  you  not  happy  because  I 
am  here.''  " 

Her  lips  were  seeking  his.  His  own  touched  them 
for  a  moment.  Then  he  kissed  her  on  both  cheeks. 
She  made  a  little  grimace. 

"  I  am  afraid,"  she  said,  "  that  you  are  not  really 
fond  of  me." 

"  Can't  you  believe,"  he  asked  hoarsely,  "  that  I  am 
really  Everard  —  your  husband?  Look  at  me. 
Can't  you  feel  that  you  have  loved  me  before?  " 

She  shook  her  head  a  little  sadly. 

"No,  you  are  not  Everard,"  she  sighed;  "but," 
she  added,  her  eyes  lighting  up,  "  you  bring  me  love 
and  happiness  and  life,  and  — " 

A  few  seconds  before,  Dominey  felt  from  his  soul 
that  he  would  have  welcomed  an  earthquake,  a  thun- 
derbolt, the  crumbling  of  the  floor  beneath  his  feet  to 
have  been  spared  the  torture  of  her  sweet  importu- 
nities. Yet  nothing  so  horrible  as  this  interruption 
Avhich  really  came  could  ever  have  presented  itself  be- 
fore his  mind.  Half  in  his  arms,  with  her  head 
thrown  back,  listening  —  he,  too,  horrified,  convulsed 
for  a  moment  even  with  real  physical  fear  —  they 
heard  the  silence  of  the  night  broken  by  that  one  aw- 
ful cry,  the  cry  of  a  man's  soul  in  torment,  imprisoned 


204        THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

in  the  jaws  of  a  beast.  They  listened  to  it  together 
until  its  echoes  died  away.  Then  what  was,  perhaps, 
the  most  astonishing  thing  of  all,  she  nodded  her  head 
slowly,  unperturbed,  unterrified. 

"  You  see,"  she  said,  "  I  must  go  back.  He  will 
not  let  me  stay  here.  He  must  think  that  you  are 
Everard.     It  is  only  I  who  know  that  you  are  not." 

She  slipped  from  the  chair,  kissed  him,  and,  walk- 
ing quite  firmly  across  the  floor,  touched  the  spring 
and  passed  through  the  panel.  Even  then  she  turned 
around  and  waved  a  little  good-bye  to  him.  There 
was  no  sign  of  fear  in  her  face;  only  a  little  dumb 
disappointment.  The  panel  glided  to  and  shut  out 
the  vision  of  her.  Dominey  held  his  head  like  a  man 
who  fears  madness. 


CHAPTER  XIX 

Dawn  the  next  morning  was  heralded  by  only  a  thin 
line  of  red  parting  the  masses  of  black-grey  snow 
clouds  which  still  hung  low  down  in  the  east.  The 
wind  had  dropped,  and  there  was  something  ghostly 
about  the  still  twilight  as  Dominey  issued  from  the 
back  regions  and  made  his  way  through  the  untrodden 
snow  round  to  the  side  of  the  house  underneath  Rosa- 
mund's window.  A  little  exclamation  broke  from  his 
lips  as  he  stood  there.  From  the  terraced  walk,  down 
the  steps,  and  straight  across  the  park  to  the  corner 
of  the  Black  Wood,  were  fresh  tracks.  The  cry  had 
been  no  fantasy.  Somebody  or  something  had  passed 
from  the  Black  Wood  and  back  again  to  this  spot  in 
the  night. 

Dominey,  curiously  excited  by  his  discovery,  exam- 
ined the  footmarks  eagerly,  then  followed  them  to  the 
corner  of  the  wood.  Here  and  there  they  puzzled 
him.  They  were  neither  like  human  footsteps  or  the 
track  of  an}'  known  animal.  At  the  edge  of  the  wood 
they  seemed  to  vanish  into  the  heart  of  a  great  mass 
of  brambles,  from  which  here  and  there  the  snow  had 
been  shaken  off.  There  was  no  sign  of  any  pathway ; 
if  ever  there  had  been  one,  the  neglect  of  years  had 
obliterated  it.     Bracken,  brambles,  shrubs  and  bushes 


2o6        THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

had  grown  up  and  degenerated,  only  to  be  succeeded 
by  a  ranker  and  more  dense  form  of  undergrowth. 
Many  of  the  trees,  although  they  were  still  plentiful, 
had  been  blown  down  and  left  to  rot  on  the  ground. 
The  place  was  silent  except  for  the  slow  drip  of  fall- 
ing snow  from  the  drooping  leaves.  He  took  one 
more  cautious  step  forward  and  found  himself  slowly 
sinking.  Black  mud  was  oozing  up  through  the  snow 
where  he  had  set  his  feet.  He  was  just  able  to 
scramble  back.  Picking  his  way  with  great  caution, 
he  commenced  a  leisurely  perambulation  of  the  whole 
of  the  outside  of  the  wood. 

Heggs,  the  junior  keeper,  an  hour  or  so  later,  went 
over  the  gun  rack  once  more,  tapped  the  empty  cases, 
and  turned  towards  Middleton,  who  was  sitting  in  a 
chair  before  the  fire,  smoking  his  pipe. 

"  I  can't  find  master's  number  two  gun,  Mr.  Mid- 
dleton," he  announced.     "  That's  missing." 

"  Look  again,  lad,"  the  old  keeper  directed,  remov- 
ing the  pipe  from  his  mouth.  "  The  master  was 
shooting  with  it  yesterday.  Look  amongst  those 
loose  'uns  at  the  far  end  of  the  rack.  It  must  be 
somewhere  there." 

"  Well,  that  isn't,"  the  young  man  replied  obsti- 
nately. 

The  door  of  the  room  was  suddenly  opened,  and 
Dominey  entered  with  the  missing  gun  under  his  arm. 
Middleton  rose  to  his  feet  at  once  and  laid  down  his 
pipe.      Surprise  kept  him  temporarily  silent. 

"  I  want  you  to  come  this  way  with  me  for  a  mo- 
ment," his  master  ordered. 

The  keeper  took  up  his  hat  and  stick  and  followed. 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION        207 

Dominey  led  him  to  where  the  tracks  had  halted  on 
the  gravel  outside  Rosamund's  window  and  pointed 
across  to  the  Black  Wood. 

"  What  do  you  make  of  those?  "  he  enquired. 

Middleton  did  not  hesitate.  He  shook  his  head 
gravely. 

"  Was  anything  heerd  last  night,  sir?  " 

"  There  was  an  infernal  yell  underneath  this  win- 
dow." 

"  That  was  the  spirit  of  Roger  Unthank,  for  sure," 
Middleton  pronounced,  with  a  little  shudder. 
"  When  he  do  come  out  of  that  wood,  he  do  call." 

"  Spirits,"  his  master  pointed  out,  "  do  not  leave 
tracks  like  that  behind." 

Middleton  considered  the  matter. 

"  They  do  say  hereabout,"  he  confided,  "  that  the 
spirit  of  Roger  Unthank  have  been  taken  possession 
of  by  some  sort  of  great  animal,  and  that  it  do  come 
here  now  and  then  to  be  fed." 

"  By  whom  ?  "  Dominey  enquired  patiently. 

"  Why,  by  Mrs.  Unthank." 

"  Mrs.  Unthank  has  not  been  in  this  house  for 
many  months.  From  the  day  she  left  until  last  night, 
so  far  as  I  can  gather,  nothing  has  been  heard  of  this 
ghost,  or  beast,  or  whatever  it  is." 

"  That  do  seem  queer,  surely,"  Middleton  admitted. 

Dominey  followed  the  tracks  with  his  eyes  to  the 
wood  and  back  again. 

"  Middleton,"  he  said,  "  I  am  learning  something 
about  spirits.  It  seems  that  the}^  not  only  make 
tracks,  but  they  require  feeding.  Perhaps  if  that  is 
so  they  can  feel  a  charge  of  shot  inside  them." 


2o8        THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

The  old  man  seemed  for  a  moment  to  stiffen  with 
slow  horror. 

"  You  wouldn't  shoot  at  it,  Squire?  "  he  gasped. 

"  I  should  have  done  so  this  morning  if  I  had  had  a 
chance,"  Dominey  replied.  "  When  the  weather  is  a 
little  drier,  I  am  going  to  make  my  way  into  that 
wood,  ^Middleton,  with  a  rifle  under  my  arm." 

"  Then  as  God's  above,  you'll  never  come  out, 
Squire  !  "  was  the  solemn  reply. 

"  We  will  see,"  Dominey  muttered.  "  I  have 
hacked  my  way  through  some  queer  country  in 
Africa." 

"  There's  nowt  like  this  wood  in  the  world,  sir," 
the  old  man  asserted  doggedly.  "  The  bottom's  rot- 
ten from  end  to  end  and  the  top's  all  poisonous.  The 
birds  die  there  on  the  trees.  It's  chockful  of  reptiles 
and  unclean  things,  with  green  and  purple  fungi,  two 
feet  high,  with  poison  in  the  very  sniff  of  them.  The 
man  who  enters  that  wood  goes  to  his  grave." 

"  Nevertheless,"  Dominey  said  firmly,  "  within  a 
very  short  time  I  am  going  to  solve  the  mystery  of 
this  nocturnal  visitor." 

They  returned  to  the  house,  side  by  side.  Just  be- 
fore they  entered,  Dominey  turned  to  his  companion. 

"  Middleton,"  he  said,  "  you  keep  up  the  good  old 
customs,  I  suppose,  and  spend  half  an  hour  at  the 
'  Dominey  Arms  '  now  and  then  ?  " 

"  Most  ever}'  night  of  my  life,  sir,"  the  old  man 
replied,  "  from  eight  till  nine.  I'm  a  man  of  regular 
habits,  and  that  do  seem  right  to  me  that  with  the 
work  done  right  and  proper  a  man  should  have  his 
relaxation." 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION        209 

"  That  is  right,  John,"  Domine}^  assented.  "  Next 
time  you  are  there,  don't  forget  to  mention  that  I  am 
going  to  have  that  wood  looked  through.  I  should 
like  it  to  get  about,  you  understand?  " 

"  That'll  fair  flummox  the  folk,"  was  the  doubtful 
reply,  "  but  I'll  let  'em  know.  Squire.  There'll  be  a 
rare  bit  of  talk,  I  can  promise  you  that." 

Dominey  handed  over  his  gun,  went  to  his  room, 
bathed  and  changed,  and  descended  for  breakfast. 
There  was  a  sudden  hush  as  he  entered,  which  he  very 
well  understood.  Every  one  began  to  talk  about  the 
prospect  of  the  day's  sport.  Dominey  helped  himself 
from  the  sideboard  and  took  his  place  at  the  table. 

"  I  hope,"  he  said,  "  that  our  very  latest  thing  in 
ghosts  did  not  disturb  anybody." 

"  We  all  seem  to  have  heard  the  same  thing,"  the 
Cabinet  Minister  observed,  with  interest, — "  a  most 
appalling  and  unearthl}'  cry.  I  have  lately  joined 
every  society  connected  with  spooks  and  find  them  a 
fascinating  study." 

"  If  you  want  to  investigate,"  Domine}-  observed, 
as  he  helped  himself  to  coff^ee,  "  3'ou  can  bring  out 
a  revolver  and  prowl  about  with  me  one  night.  From 
the  time  when  I  was  a  kid,  before  I  went  to  Eton,  up 
till  when  I  left  here  for  Africa,  we  had  a  series  of 
highW  respectable  and  well-behaved  ghosts,  who  were 
a  credit  to  the  family  and  of  whom  we  were  somewhat 
proud.  This  latest  spook,  however,  is  something 
quite  outside  the  pale." 

"Has  he  a  history?"  Mr.  Watson  asked,  with 
interest. 

"  I  am  informed,"  Dominey  replied,  "  that  he  is  the 


2IO        THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

spirit  of  a  schoolmaster  who  once  lived  here,  and  for 
whose  departure  from  the  world  I  am  supposed  to  be 
responsible.  Such  a  spook  is  neither  a  credit  nor  a 
comfort  to  the  family." 

Their  host  spoke  with  such  an  absolute  absenee 
of  emotion  that  every  one  was  conscious  of  a  curious 
reluctance  to  abandon  a  subject  full  of  such  fasci- 
nating possibilities.  Terniloff  was  the  only  one,  how- 
ever, who  made  a  suggestion. 

"  We  might  have  a  battue  in  the  wood,"  he  pro- 
posed. 

"  I  am  not  sure,"  Dominey  told  them,  "  that  the 
character  of  the  wood  is  not  more  interesting  than  the 
ghost  who  is  supposed  to  dwell  in  it.  You  remember 
how  terrified  the  beaters  were  yesterday  at  the  bare 
suggestion  of  entering  it.''  For  generations  it  has 
been  held  unclean.  It  is  certainly  most  unsafe.  I 
went  in  over  my  knees  on  the  outskirts  of  it  this  morn- 
ing.—  Shall  we  say  half-past  ten  in  the  gun  room.?  " 

Seaman  followed  his  host  out  of  the  room. 

"  My  friend,"  he  said,  "  you  must  not  allow  these 
local  circumstances  to  occupy  too  large  a  share  of 
your  thoughts.  It  is  true  that  these  are  the  days  of 
your  relaxation.  Still,  there  is  the  Princess  for  you 
to  think  of.  After  all,  she  has  us  in  her  power.  The 
merest  whisper  in  Downing  Street,  and  behold,  catas- 
trophe ! " 

Dominey  took  his  friend's  arm. 

"Look  here.  Seaman,"  he  rejoined,  "it's  easy 
enough  to  say  there  is  the  Princess  to  be  considered, 
but  will  you  kindl}^  tell  me  what  on  earth  more  I  can 
do  to  make  her  see  the  position.'^     Necessity  demands 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION        211 

that  I  should  be  on  the  best  of  terms  with  Lady  Domi- 
ney  and  that  I  should  not  make  m3'self  in  any  way 
conspicuous  with  the  Princess." 

"  I  am  not  sure,"  Seaman  reflected,  "  that  the 
terms  you  are  on  with  Lady  Dominey  matter  very 
much  to  any  one.  So  far  as  regards  the  Princess,  she 
is  an  impulsive  and  passionate  person,  but  she  is  also 
grande  dame  and  a  diplomatist.  I  see  no  reason  why 
you  should  not  marr}^  her  secretly  in  London,  in  the 
name  of  Everard  Dominey,  and  have  the  ceremony 
repeated  under  your  rightful  name  later  on." 

They  had  paused  to  help  themselves  to  cigarettes, 
which  were  displayed  with  a  cabinet  of  cigars  on  a 
round  table  in  the  hall.  Dominey  waited  for  a  mo- 
ment before  he  answered. 

"  Has  the  Princess  confided  to  you  that  that  is  her 
wish?  "  he  asked. 

"  Something  of  the  sort,"  Seaman  acknowledged. 
"  She  wishes  the  suggestion,  however,  to  come  from 
you." 

"  And  your  advice.''  " 

Seaman  blew  out  a  little  cloud  of  cigar  smoke. 

"  My  friend,"  he  confessed,  "  I  am  a  little  afraid  of 
the  Princess.  I  ask  you  no  questions  as  to  your  own 
feelings  with  regard  to  her.  I  take  it  for  granted 
that  as  a  man  of  honour  it  will  be  your  duty  to  offer 
her  your  hand  in  marriage,  sooner  or  later.  I  see  no 
harm  in  anticipating  a  few  months,  if  by  that  means 
we  can  pacify  her.  Tcrniloff  would  arrange  it  at 
the  Embass}'.  He  is  devoted  to  her,  and  it  will 
strengthen  your  position  with  him." 

Dominey  turned  away  towards  the  stairs. 


212        THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

"  We  will  discuss  this  again  before  we  leave,"  he 
said  gloomil3\ 

Dominey  was  admitted  at  once  by  her  maid  into 
his  wife's  sitting-room.  Rosamund,  in  a  charming 
morning  robe  of  pale  blue  lined  with  grey  fur,  had 
just  finished  breakfast.  She  held  out  her  hands  to 
him  with  a  delighted  little  cry  of  welcome. 

"  How  nice  of  you  to  come,  Everard ! "  she  ex- 
claimed. "  I  was  hoping  I  should  see  you  for  a  mo- 
ment before  you  went  off." 

He  raised  her  fingers  to  his  lips  and  sat  down  by 
her  side.  She  seemed  entirely  delighted  by  his  pres- 
ence, and  he  felt  instinctively  that  she  was  quite  un- 
affected by  the  event  of  the  night  before. 

"  You  slept  well?  "  he  enquired. 

"  Perfectly,"  she  ans^rered. 

He  tackled  the  subject  bravely,  as  he  had  made  up 
his  mind  to  on  every  opportunity. 

"  You  do  not  lie  awake  thinking  of  our  nocturnal 
visitor,  then?  " 

"  Not  for  one  moment.  Y^ou  see,"  she  went  on 
conversationally,  "  if  you  were  really  Everard,  then  I 
might  be  frightened,  for  some  day  or  other  I  feel  that 
if  Everard  comes  here,  the  spirit  of  Roger  Unthank 
will  do  him  some  sort  of  mischief." 

"Why?"  he  asked. 

"  Y"ou  don't  know  about  these  things,  of  course," 
she  went  on,  "  but  Roger  Unthank  was  in  love  with 
me,  although  I  had  scarcely  ever  spoken  to  him,  be- 
fore I  married  Everard.  I  think  I  told  you  that 
much  yesterday,  didn't  I?  After  I  was  married,  the 
poor  man  nearly  went  out  of  his  mind.     He  gave  up 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION        213 

his  work  and  used  to  haunt  the  park  lierc.  One  eve- 
ning Everard  caught  him  and  they  fought,  and  Roger 
Unthank  was  never  seen  again.  I  tliink  that  any  one 
around  here  would  tell  you,"  she  went  on,  dropping 
her  voice  a  little,  "  that  Everard  killed  Roger  and 
threw  him  into  one  of  those  swampy  places  near  the 
Black  Wood,  where  a  body  sinks  and  sinks  and  noth- 
ing is  ever  seen  of  it  again." 

"  I  do  not  believe  he  did  anything  of  the  sort," 
Dominey  declared. 

"  Oh,  I  don't  know,"  she  replied  doubtfully. 
"  Everard  had  a  terrible  temper,  and  that  night  he 
came  home  covered  with  blood,  looking  —  awful !  It 
was  the  night  when  I  was  taken  ill." 

"  Well,  no  more  tragedies,"  he  insisted.  "  I  have 
come  up  to  remind  3"ou  that  we  have  guests  here. 
When  are  you  coming  down  to  see  them.'*  " 

She  laughed  like  a  child. 

"  You  say  '  we  '  just  as  though  3'ou  were  really  my 
husband,"  she  declared. 

"  You  must  not  tell  any  one  else  of  your  fancy," 
he  warned  her. 

She  acquiesced  at  once. 

"  Oh,  I  quite  understand,"  she  assured  him.  "  I 
shall  be  ver}',  very  careful.  And,  Everard,  3'ou  have 
such  clevei  guests,  not  at  all  the  sort  of  people  my 
Everard  would  have  had  here,  and  I  have  been  out  of 
the  world  for  so  long,  that  I  am  afraid  I  sha'n't  be 
able  to  talk  to  them.  Nurse  Alice  is  tremendously 
impressed.  I  am  sure  I  should  be  terrified  to  sit  at 
the  end  of  the  table,  and  Caroline  will  hate  not  being 
hostess  any  longer.     Let  me  come  down  at  tea-time 


214        THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

and  after  dinner,  and  slip  into  things  gradually'. 
You  can  easily  say  that  I  am  still  an  invalid,  though 
of  course  I'm  not  at  all." 

"  You  shall  do  exactly  as  you  choose,"  he  promised, 
as  he  took  his  leave. 

So  when  the  shooting  party  tramped  into  the  hall 
that  afternoon,  a  little  weary,  but  flushed  with  exer- 
cise and  the  pleasure  of  the  day's  sport,  they  found, 
seated  in  a  corner  of  the  room,  behind  the  great 
round  table  upon  which  tea  was  set  out,  a  rather  pale 
but  extraordinarily  childlike  and  fascinating  woman, 
with  large,  sweet  eyes  which  seemed  to  be  begging  for 
their  protection  and  sympathy  as  she  rose  hesitat- 
ingly to  her  feet.  Dominey  was  by  her  side  in  a  mo- 
ment, and  his  first  few  w^ords  of  introduction  brought 
every  one  around  her.  She  said  very  little,  but  what 
she  said  was  delightfully  natural  and  gracious. 

"  It  has  been  so  kind  of  you,"  she  said  to  Caroline, 
"  to  help  my  husband  entertain  his  guests.  I  am  very 
much  better,  but  I  have  been  ill  for  so  long  that  I 
have  forgotten  a  great  many  things,  and  I  should  be 
a  very  poor  hostess.  But  I  want  to  make  tea  for 
3'ou,  please,  and  I  want  you  all  to  tell  me  how  many 
pheasants  you  have  shot." 

TernilofF  seated  himself  on  the  settee  by  her  side. 

"  I  am  going  to  help  you  in  this  complicated  task," 
he  declared.  "  I  am  sure  those  sugar  tongs  are  too 
heavy  for  you  to  wield  alone." 

She  laughed  at  him  gaily. 

"  But  I  am  not  really  delicate  at  all,"  she  assured 
him.  "  I  have  had  a  very  bad  illness,  but  I  am  quite 
strong  again." 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION        215 

"  Then  I  will  find  some  other  excuse  for  sitting 
here,"  he  said.  "  I  will  tell  you  all  about  the  high 
pheasants  your  husband  killed,  and  about  the  wood- 
cock he  brought  down  after  we  had  all  missed  it." 

"  I  shall  love  to  hear  about  that,"  she  assented. 
"  How  much  sugar,  please,  and  will  you  pass  those 
hot  muffins  to  the  Princess.''  And  please  touch  that 
bell.  I  shall  want  more  hot  water.  I  expect  you  are 
all  very  thirsty.     I  am  so  glad  to  be  here  with  you." 


CHAPTER  XX 

Arm  in  arm,  Prince  Terniloff  and  his  host  climbed 
the  snow-covered  slope  at  the  back  of  a  long  fir  plan- 
tation, towards  the  little  beflagged  sticks  which  indi- 
cated their  stand.  There  was  not  a  human  being  in 
sight,  for  the  rest  of  the  guns  had  chosen  a  steeper 
but  somewhat  less  circuitous  route. 

"  Von  Ragastein,"  the  Ambassador  said,  "  I  am  go- 
ing to  give  myself  the  luxui'j  of  calling  you  by  your 
name.  You  know  my  one  weakness,  a  weakness  which 
in  my  younger  days  very  nearly  drove  me  out  of 
diplomacy.  I  detest  espiona_ge  in  every  shape  and 
form,  even  where  it  is  necessary.  So  far  as  you  are 
concerned,  my  young  friend,"  he  went  on,  "  I  think 
your  position  ridiculous.  I  have  sent  a  private  de- 
spatch to  Potsdam,  in  which  I  have  expressed  that 
opinion." 

"  So  far,"  Dominey  remarked,  "  I  have  not  been 
overv.orked." 

"  My  dear  young  friend,"  the  Prince  continued, 
"  you  have  not  been  overworked  because  there  has 
been  no  legitimate  work  for  you  to  do.  There  will 
be  none.  There  could  be  no  possible  advantage  ac- 
cruing from  your  labours  here  to  compensate  for  the 
very  bad  effect  wliich  the  discovery  of  your  true  name 
and  position  would  have  in  the  English  Cabinet." 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION        217 

"  I  must  ask  you  to  remember,"  Domincy  begged, 
"  that  I  am  here  as  a  blind  servant  of  the  Father- 
land.    I  simply  obey  orders." 

"  I  will  grant  that  freely,"  the  Prince  consented. 
"  But  to  continue.  I  am  now  at  the  end  of  my  first 
year  in  this  country.  I  feel  able  to  congratulate  my- 
self upon  a  certain  measure  of  success.  From  that 
part  of  the  Cabinet  with  whom  I  have  had  to  do,  I 
have  received  nothing  but  encouragement  in  my  ef- 
forts to  promote  a  better  understanding  between  our 
two  countries." 

"  The  sky  certainly  seems  clear  enough  just  now," 
agreed  Dominey. 

"  I  have  convinced  myself,"  the  Prince  said  em- 
phatically, "  that  there  is  a  genuine  and  solid  desire 
for  peace  with  Germany  existing  in  Downing  Street. 
In  every  argument  I  have  had,  in  every  concession  I 
have  asked  for,  I  have  been  met  with  a  sincere  desire 
to  foster  the  growing  friendship  between  our  coun- 
tries. I  am  proud  of  my  work  here.  Von  Ragastein. 
I  believe  that  I  have  brought  Germany  and  England 
nearer  together  than  they  have  been  since  the  days 
of  the  Boer  War." 

"  You  are  sure,  sir,"  Dominey  asked,  "  that  you 
are  not  confusing  personal  popularity  with  national 
sentiment?  " 

"  I  am  sure  of  it,"  the  Ambassador  answered 
gravely.  "  Such  popularity  as  I  may  have  achieved 
here  has  been  due  to  an  appreciation  of  the  more 
healthy  state  of  world  politics  now  existing.  It  has 
been  my  great  pleasure  to  trace  the  result  of  my 
work  in  a  manuscript  of  memoirs,  which  some  day. 


2i8        THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

when  peace  is  firmly  establislied  between  our  two 
countries,  I  shall  cause  to  be  published.  I  have  put 
on  record  there  evidences  of  the  really  genuine  senti- 
ment in  favour  of  peace  which  I  have  found  amongst 
the  present  Cabinet." 

"  I  should  esteem  it  an  immense  privilege,"  Domi- 
ney  said,  "  to  be  given  a  private  reading  of  these 
memoirs." 

"  That  may  be  arranged,"  was  the  suave  reply. 
"  In  the  meantime.  Von  Ragastein,  I  want  you  to  re- 
consider your  position  here." 

"  My  position  is  not  voluntary,"  Dominey  re- 
peated.    "  I  am  acting  under  orders." 

"  Precisely,"  the  other  acquiesced,  "  but  matters 
have  changed  very  much  during  the  last  six  months. 
Even  at  the  risk  of  offending  France,  England  is 
showing  wonderful  pliability  with  regard  to  our  claims 
in  Morocco.  Every  prospect  of  disagreement  be- 
tween our  two  countries  upon  any  vital  matter  has 
now  disappeared." 

"  Unless,"  Dominey  said  thoughtfully,  "  the  desire 
for  war  should  come,  not  from  Downing  Street  but 
from  Potsdam." 

"  We  serve  an  honourable  master,"  TernilofF  de- 
clared sternly,  "  and  he  has  shown  me  his  mind.  His 
will  is  for  peace,  and  for  the  great  triumphs  to  which 
our  country  is  already  entitled  by  reason  of  her  su- 
premacy in  industry,  in  commerce,  in  character  and 
in  genius.  These  are  the  weapons  which  will  make 
Germany  the  greatest  Power  in  the  world.  No  em- 
pire has  ever  hewn  its  way  to  permanent  glory  by  the 
sword  a'lone.     We  have  reached  our  stations,  I  see. 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION        219 

Come  to  me  after  tliis  drive  is  finished,  my  liost.  All 
that  I  have  said  so  far  has  been  by  way  of  prelude." 

The  weather  had  turned  drier,  the  snow  was  crisp, 
and  a  little  party  of  women  from  the  Hall  reached  the 
guns  before  the  beaters  were  through  the  wood. 
Caroline  and  Stephanie  both  took  their  places  by 
Dominey's  side.  The  former,  however,  after  a  few 
minutes  passed  on  to  Terniloff's  stand.  Stephanie 
and  Dominey  were  alone  for  the  first  time  since  their 
stormy  interview  in  the  library. 

"  Has  Maurice  been  talking  to  you.''  "  she  asked  a 
little  abruptly. 

"  His  Excellency  and  I  are,  to  tell  you  the  truth," 
Dominey  confessed,  "  in  the  midst  of -a  most  interest- 
ing conversation." 

"  Has  he  spoken  to  you  about  me.'*  " 

"  Your  name  has  not  yet  been  mentioned." 

She  made  a  little  grimace.  In  her  wonderful  furs 
and  Russian  turban  hat  she  made  rather  a  striking 
picture  against  the  background  of  snow. 

"  An  interesting  conversation  in  which  my  name 
has  not  been  mentioned  !  "  she  repeated  satirically. 

"  I  think  you  were  coming  into  it  before  very 
long,"  Dominey  assured  her.  "  His  Excellency 
Avarned  me  that  all  he  had  said  so  far  was  merely  the 
prelude  to  a  matter  of  larger  importance." 

Stephanie  smiled. 

"  Dear  Maurice  is  so  diplomatic,"  she  murmured. 
"  I  am  perfectly  certain  he  is  going  to  begin  by 
remonstrating  with  you  for  your  shocking  treatment 
of  me." 

Their  conversation  was  interrupted  for  a  few  min- 


220        THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

utes  by  the  sport.  Dominey  called  the  faithful  Mid- 
dleton  to  his  side  for  a  further  supply  of  cartridges. 
Stephanie  bided  her  time,  which  came  when  the  beaters 
at  last  emerged  from  the  wood. 

"  Shocking,"  Stephanie  repeated,  reverting  to  their 
conversation,  "  is  the  mildest  word  in  my  vocabulary 
which  I  can  apply  to  your  treatment  of  me.  Hon- 
estly, Leopold,  I  feel  bruised  all  over  inside.  INIy 
pride  is  humbled." 

"  It  is  because  you  look  at  the  matter  only  from 
a  feminine  point  of  view,"  Dominey  persisted. 

"  And  you,"  she  answered  in  a  low  tone,  "  once  the 
fondest  and  the  most  passionate  of  lovers,  only  from 
a  political  one.  You  think  a  great  deal  of  your  coun- 
try, Leopold.      Have  I  no  claims  upon  you.'*  " 

"  Upon  Everard  Dominey,  none,"  he  insisted. 
"  When  the  time  comes,  and  Leopold  von  Ragastein 
can  claim  all  that  is  his  right,  believe  me,  you  will 
have  no  cause  to  complain  of  coldness  or  dilatoriness. 
He  will  have  only  one  thought,  only  one  hope  —  to 
end  the  torture  of  these  years  of  separation  as  speed- 
ily as  may  be." 

The  strained  look  passed  from  her  face.  Her  tone 
became  more  natural. 

"  But,  dear,"  she  pleaded,  "  there  is  no  need  to 
wait.  Your  Sovereign  gives  you  permission.  Your 
political  chief  will  more  than  endorse  it." 

"  I  am  on  the  spot,"  Dominey  replied,  "  and  believe 
me  I  know  what  is  safest  and  best.  I  cannot  live  as 
two  men  and  keep  my  face  steadfast  to  the  world. 
The  Prince,  however,  has  not  spoken  to  me  yet.  I 
will  hear  what  he  has  to  say." 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION        221 

Stephanie  turned  a  little  haughtily  away. 

"  You  are  putting  me  in  the  position  of  a  suppli- 
ant !  "  she  exclaimed.  "  To-night  we  must  have  an 
understanding." 

The  little  party  moved  on  all  together  to  another 
cover.  Rosamund  had  joined  them  and  hung  on  to 
Dominey's  arm  with  delight.  The  brisk  walk  across 
the  park  had  brought  colour  to  her  cheeks.  She 
walked  with  all  the  free  and  vigorous  grace  of  a 
healthy  woman.  Dominey  fourd  himself  watching 
her,  as  she  deserted  him  a  little  later  on  to  stand  by 
TernilofF's  side,  with  a  little  thrill  of  tangled  emo- 
tions. He  felt  a  touch  on  his  arm.  Stephanie,  who 
was  passing  with  another  of  the  guns,  paused  to  whis- 
per in  his  ear: 

"  There  might  be  a  greater  danger  —  one  that  has 
evaded  even  your  cautious  mind  —  in  overplaying 
your  part !  " 

Dominey  was  taken  possession  of  by  Caroline  on 
their  walk  to  the  next  stand.  She  planted  herself  on 
a  shooting  stick  by  his  side  and  commenced  to  take 
him  roundly  to  task. 

"  My  dear  Everard,"  she  said,  "  you  are  one  of  the 
most  wonderful  examples  of  the  reformed  rake  I  ever 
met!  You  have  even  acquired  respectability.  For 
heaven's  sake,  don't  disappoint  us  all !  " 

"  I  seem  to  be  rather  good  at  that,"  Dominey  ob- 
served a  little  drearily. 

"  Well,  you  are  the  master  of  your  own  actions, 
are  you  not.''  "  she  asked.  "  What  I  want  to  say  in 
plain  words  is,  don't  go  and  make  a  fool  of  3'ourseif 
with  Stephanie." 


222        THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

"  I  have  not  the  least  intention  of  doing  anything 
of  the  sort." 

"  Well,  she  has  !  Mark  ni}'  words,  Evcrard,  I  know 
that  woman.  She  is  clever  and  brilliant  and  any- 
thing else  you  like,  but  for  some  reason  or  other  she 
has  set  her  mind  upon  you.  She  looks  at  dear  little 
Rosamund  as  though  she  hadn't  a  right  to  exist. 
Don't  look  so  sorry  for  yourself.  You  must  have 
encouraged  her." 

Dominey  was  sik  t.  Fortunately,  the  exigencies 
of  the  next  few  minutes  demanded  it.  His  cousin 
waited  patiently  until  there  came  a  pause  in  the  shoot- 
ing. 

"  Now  let  me  hear  what  you  have  to  say  for  your- 
self, sir.^*  So  far  as  I  can  see,  you've  been  quite  sweet 
to  your  wife,  and  she  adores  you.  If  you  want  to 
have  an  affair  with  the  Princess,  don't  begin  it  here. 
Yoj'll  have  your  wife  ill  again  if  you  make  her  jeal- 
ous." 

"  My  dear  Caroline,  there  will  be  no  affair  between 
Stephanie  and  me.     Of  that  you  may  rest  assured." 

"  You  mean  to  say  that  this  is  altogether  on  her 
side,  then.^  "  Caroline  persisted. 

"  You  exaggerate  her  demeanour,"  he  replied, 
"  but  even  if  what  you  suggest  were  true  — " 

"  Oh,  I  don't  want  a  lot  of  protestations !  "  she 
interrupted.  "  I  am  not  saying  that  you  encourage 
her  much,  because  I  don't  believe  you  do.  All  I  want 
to  point  out  is  that,  having  really  brought  3^our  wife 
back  almost  to  health,  you  must  be  extraordinarily 
and  wonderfully  careful.  If  you  want  to  talk  non- 
sense with  Stephanie,  do  it  in  Belgrave  Square." 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION        223 

Dominey  was  watching  the  gyrations  of  a  falling 
pheasant.  Plis  left  hand  was  stretched  out  towards 
the  cartridge  bag  wliich  Caroline  was  holding.  He 
clasped  her  fingers  for  a  moment  before  he  helped 
himself. 

"  You  are  rather  a  dear,"  he  said.  "  I  would  not 
do  anything  to  hurt  Rosamund  for  the  world." 

"  If  you  can't  get  rid  of  your  old  tricks  altogether 
and  must  flirt,"  she  remarked,  "  well,  I'm  always 
somewhere  about.  Rosamund  wouldn't  mind  me,  be- 
cause there  are  a  few  grey  hairs  in  my  sandy  ones. — 
And  here  comes  your  man  across  the  park  —  looks 
as  though  he  had  a  message  for  you.  So  long  as 
nothing  hns  happened  to  your  cook,  I  feel  that  I 
could  face  ill  tidings  with  composure." 

Dominey  found  himself  watching  with  fixed  eyes 
the  approach  of  his  rather  sad-faced  manservant 
through  the  snow.  Parkins  was  not  dressed  for  such 
an  enterprise,  nor  did  he  seem  in  any  way  to  relisli  it. 
His  was  the  stern  marcli  of  duty,  and,  curiously 
enough,  Dominey  felt  from  the  moment  he  caught 
sight  of  him  that  he  was  in  some  respects  a  messenger 
of  Fate.  Yet  the  message  which  he  delivered,  when 
at  last  he  reached  his  master's  side,  was  in  no  wa}^ 
alarming. 

"  A  person  of  the  name  of  Miller  has  arrived  here, 
sir,"  he  announced,  "  from  Norwich.  He  is,  I  under- 
stand, a  foreigner  of  some  sort,  who  has  recently 
landed  in  this  country.  I  found  it  a  little  difficult 
to  understand  him,  but  her  Highness's  maid  conversed 
with  him  in  German,  and  I  understand  that  he  either 
is  or  brings  you  a  message  from  a  certain  Doctor 


224        THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

Schmidt,  with  whom  j^ou  were  acquainted  in 
Africa." 

The  warning  whistle  blew  at  that  moment,  and 
Dominey  swung  round  and  stood  at  attention.  His 
behaviour  was  perfectly  normal.  He  let  a  hen  pheas- 
ant pass  over  his  head,  and  brought  down  a  cock 
from  very  nearly  the  limit  distance.  He  reloaded 
before  he  turned  to  Parkins. 

"  Is  this  person  in  a  hurry .?  "  he  said. 

"  By  no  means,  sir,"  the  man  replied.  "  I  told  him 
that  you  would  not  be  back  until  three  or  four  o'clock, 
and  he  is  quite  content  to  wait." 

Dominey  nodded. 

"  Look  after  him  yourself  then,  Parkins,"  he  di- 
rected. "  We  shall  not  be  shooting  late  to-day. 
Very  likely  I  will  send  Mr.  Seaman  back  to  talk  to 
him." 

The  man  raised  his  hat  respectfully  and  turned 
back  towards  the  house.  Caroline  was  watching  her 
companion  curiously. 

"  Do  you  find  many  of  your  acquaintances  in  Af- 
rica look  you  up,  Everard.'*  "  she  asked. 

"  Except  for  Seaman,"  Dominey  replied,  looking 
through  the  barrels  of  his  gun,  "  who  reall3'^  does  not 
count  because  we  crossed  together,  this  is  my  first 
visitor  from  the  land  of  fortune.  I  expect  there  will 
be  plenty  of  them  by  and  by,  though.  Colonials  have 
a  wonderful  habit  of  sticking  to  one  another." 


CHAPTER  XXI 

There  was  nothing  in  the  least  alarming  about  the 
appearance  of  Mr.  Ludwig  Miller.  He  had  been  ex- 
ceedingly well  entertained  in  the  butler's  private  sit- 
ting-room and  had  the  air  of  having  done  full  justice 
to  the  hospitality  which  had  been  offered  him.  He 
rose  to  his  feet  at  Dominey's  entrance  and  stood  at 
attention.  But  for  some  slight  indications  of  mili- 
tary training,  he  would  have  passed  anywhere  as  a 
highly  respectable  retired  tradesman. 

"  Sir  Everard  Dominey?  "  he  enquired. 

Dominey  nodded  assent.  "  That  is  my  name. 
Have  I  seen  you  before.''  " 

Tlic  man  shook  his  head.  *'  I  am  a  cousin  of  Doc- 
tor Schmidt.  I  arrived  in  the  Colony  from  Rhodesia, 
after  your  Excellency  had  left," 

"  And  how  is  the  doctor.''  " 

"  My  cousin  is,  as  always,  busy  but  in  excellent 
health,"  was  the  reply.  "  He  sends  his  respectful 
compliments  and  his  good  wishes.      Also  this  letter." 

With  a  little  flourish  the  man  produced  an  envelope 
inscribed 

To  Sir  Everard  Dominey,  Baronet, 
Dominey  Hall, 

In  the  County  of  Norfolk, 
England. 


226        THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

Dominey  broke  the  seal  just  as  Seaman  entered. 

"  A  messenger  here  from  Doctor  Schmidt,  an  ac- 
quaintance of  mine  in  East  Africa,"  he  announced. 
"  Mr.  Seaman  came  home  from  South  Africa  with 
me,"  he  explained  to  his  visitor. 

The  two  men  looked  steadily  into  each  other's  eyes. 
Dominey  watched  them,  fascinated.  Neither  be- 
trayed himself  by  even  the  fall  of  an  eyelid.  Yet 
Dominey,  his  perceptive  powers  at  their  very  keenest 
in  this  moment  which  instinct  told  him  was  one  of 
crisis,  felt  the  unspoken,  unbetokened  recognition 
which  passed  between  them.  Some  commonplace  re- 
mark was  uttered  and  responded  to.  Dominey  read 
the  few  lines  which  seemed  to  take  him  back  for  a 
moment  to  another  world: 

"  Honoured  and   Honourable  Sir, 

"  I  send  you  my  heartiest  and  most  respectful  greet- 
ing. Of  the  progress  of  all  matters  here  you  will  learn 
from  another  source. 

"  I  recommend  to  your  notice  and  kindness  my  cousin, 
the  bearer  of  this  letter  —  Mr.  Ludwig  Miller.  He  will 
lay  before  you  certain  circumstances  of  which  it  is  ad- 
visable for  you  to  have  knowledge.  You  may  speak 
freely  with  him.  He  is  in  all  respects  to  be  trusted. 
(Signed)    "  Karl  Schmidt." 

"  Your  cousin  is  a  little  mysterious,"  Dominey  re- 
marked, as  he  passed  the  letter  to  Seaman.  ""  Come, 
what  about  these  circumstances.''  " 

Ludwig  Miller  looked  around  the  little  room  and 
then  at  Seaman.  Dominey'  affected  to  misunderstand 
his  hesitation. 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION        227 

"  Our  friend  here  knows  everything,"  he  declared. 
"  You  can  speak  to  him  as  to  m3'self." 

The  man  began  as  one  who  has  a  stor}-  to  tell. 

"  My  errand  here  is  to  warn  j'ou,"  he  said,  "  that 
the  Englishman  whom  you  left  for  dead  at  Big  Bend, 
on  the  banks  of  the  Blue  River,  has  been  heard. of  in 
another  part  of  Africa." 

Dominey  shook  his  head  incredulously.  "  I  hope 
you  have  not  come  all  this  way  to  tell  me  that !  The 
man  was  dead." 

"  My  cousin  himself,"  Miller  continued,  "  was  hard 
to  convince.  The  man  left  his  encampment  with 
whisky  enough  to  kill  him,  thirst  enough  to  drink  it 
all,  and  no  food." 

"  So  I  found  him,"  Dominey  assented,  "  deserted 
by  his  boys  and  raving.  To  silence  liim  forever  was  a 
child's  task." 

"  The  task,  however,  was  unperformed,"  the  other 
persisted.  "  From  three  places  in  the  Colony  he  has 
been  heard  of,  struggling  to  make  his  way  to  the 
coast." 

"  Does  he  call  himself  by  his  own  name?  "  Dominey 
asked. 

"  He  does  not,"  Miller  admitted.  "  My  cousin, 
however,  desired  me  to  point  out  to  j'ou  the  fact  that 
in  any  case  he  would  probably  be  shy  of  doing  so. 
He  is  behaving  in  an  absurd  manner ;  he  is  in  a  very 
weakly  state ;  and  without  a  doubt  he  is  to  some  de- 
gree insane.  Nevertheless,  the  fact  remains  that  he 
is  in  the  Colony,  or  was  three  months  ago,  and  that  if 
he  succeeds  in  reaching  the  coast  you  ma^'  at  any  time 
be  surprised  by  a  visit  from  him  here.     I  am  sent  to 


228        THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

warn  you  in  order  that  you  may  take  what  steps  may 
be  necessary  and  not  be  placed  at  a  disadvantage  if 
he  should  appear." 

"  This  is  queer  news  you  have  brought  us,  Miller," 
Seaman  said  thoughtfully. 

"  It  is  news  which  greatly  disturbed  Doctor 
Schmidt,"  the  man  replied.  "  He  has  had  the  na- 
tives up  one  after  the  other  for  cross-examination. 
Nothing  can  shake  their  story." 

"  If  we  believed  it,"  Seaman  continued,  "  this  other 
European,  if  he  had  business  in  this  direction,  might 
walk  in  here  at  any  moment." 

"  It  was  to  warn  you  of  that  possibility  that  I  am 
here." 

"  How  much  do  you  know  personally,"  Seaman 
asked,  "  of  the  existent  circumstances.'^  " 

The  man  shook  his  head  vaguely. 

"  I  know  nothing,"  he  admitted.  "  I  went  out  to 
East  Africa  some  years  ago,  and  I  have  been  a  trader 
in  Mozambique  in  a  small  way.  I  supplied  outfits 
for  officers  and  hospitals  and  sportsmen.  Now  and 
then  I  have  to  return  to  Europe  to  buy  fresh  stock. 
Doctor  Schmidt  knew  that,  and  he  came  to  see  me  just 
before  I  sailed.  He  first  thought  of  writing  a  very 
long  letter.  Afterwards  he  changed  his  mind.  He 
wrote  only  those  few  lines  I  brought,  but  he  told  me 
those  other  things." 

"You  have  remembered  all  that  he  told  you.''" 
Dominey  asked. 

"  I  can  think  of  nothing  else,"  was  the  reply,  after 
a  moment's  pause.  "  The  whole  affair  has  been  a 
great  worry  to  Doctor  Schmidt.     There  are  things 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION        229 

connected  with  it  which  he  has  never  understood, 
things  connected  with  it  which  he  has  always  found 
m3^sterious." 

"  Hence  ^^our  presence  here,  Johann  Wolff,  eh  ?  " 
Seaman  asked,  in  an  altered  tone. 

The  visitor's  expression  remained  unchanged  ex- 
cept for  the  faint  surprise  which  shone  out  of  his 
blue  eyes. 

"  Johann  Wolff,"  he  repeated.  "  That  is  not  my 
name.  I  am  Ludwig  Miller,  and  I  know  nothing  of 
this  matter  beyond  what  I  have  told  you.  I  am  just 
a  messenger." 

"  Once  in  Vienna  and  twice  in  Cracow,  my  friend, 
we  have  met,"  Seaman  reminded  him  softly  but  very 
insistently. 

The  other  shook  his  head  gentlv.  "  A  mistake.  I 
have  been  in  Vienna  once,  many  years  ago,  but  Cra- 
cow never." 

"You  have  no  idea  with  whom  you  are  talking?" 

"  Herr  Seaman  was  the  name,  I  understood." 

"  It  is  a  very  good  name,"  Seaman  scoffed. 
"  Look  here  and  think." 

He  undid  his  coat  and  waistcoat  and  displayed  a 
plain  vest  of  chamois  leather.  Attached  to  the  left- 
hand  side  of  it  was  a  bronze  decoration,  with  lettering 
and  a  number.  Miller  stared  at  it  blankly  and  shook 
his  head. 

"  Information  Department,  Bureau  Twelve,  pass- 
word — '  The  Day  is  coming,'  "  Seaman  continued, 
dropping  his  voice. 

His  listener  shook  his  head  and  smiled  with  the 
puzzled  ignorance  of  a  child. 


230        THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

"  The  gentleman  mistakes  me  for  some  one  else," 
he  replied.      "  I  know  nothing  of  these  things." 

Seaman  sat  and  studied  this  obstinate  visitor  for 
several  minutes  without  speaking,  his  finger  tips 
pressed  together,  his  eyebrows  gently  contracted. 
His  vis-a-vis  endured  this  scrutiny  without  flinching, 
calm,  phlegmatic,  the  very  prototype  of  the  bour- 
geois German  of  the  tradesman  class. 

"  Do  you  propose,"  Dominey  enquired,  "  to  stay 
in  these  parts  long.''  " 

"  One  or  two  days  —  a  week,  perhaps,"  was  the  in- 
different answer.  "  I  have  a  cousin  in  Norwich  who 
makes  toys.  I  love  the  English  country.  I  spend 
my  holiday  here,  perhaps." 

"  Just  so,"  Seaman  muttered  grimly.  "  The  Eng- 
lish country  under  a  foot  of  snow!  So  you  have 
nothing  more  to  say  to  me,  Johann  Wolff  .^  " 

"  I  have  executed  my  mission  to  his  Excellency," 
was  the  apologetic  reply.  "  I  am  sorry  to  have 
caused  displeasure  to  you,  Herr  Seaman." 

The  latter  rose  to  his  feet.  Dominey  had  already 
turned  towards  the  door. 

"  You  will  spend  the  night  here,  of  course,  Mr. 
Miller.''  "  he  invited.  "  I  dare  say  Mr.  Seaman  would 
like  to  have  another  talk  with  you  in  the  morning." 

"  I  shall  gladly  spend  the  night  here,  your  Excel- 
lency," was  the  polite  reply.  "  I  do  not  think  that  I 
have  anything  to  say,  however,  which  would  interest 
your  friend." 

"  You  are  making  a  great  mistake,  Wolff,"  Seaman 
declared  angrily.  "  I  am  your  superior  in  the  Serv- 
ice, and  your  attitude  towards  me  is  indefensible." 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION        231 

"  If  the  gentleman  would  only  believe,"  the  culprit 
begged,  "  that  he  is  mistaking  me  for  some  one  else !  " 

There  was  trouble  in  Seaman's  face  as  the  two  men 
made  their  way  to  the  front  of  the  house  and  trouble 
in  his  tone  as  he  answered  his  companion's  query. 

"  What  do  you  think  of  that  fellow  and  his  visit  ?  " 

"  I  do  not  know  yet  what  to  think,  but  there  is  a 
great  deal  that  I  know,"  Seaman  replied  gravely. 
"  The  man  is  a  spy,  a  favourite  in  the  Wilhelm- 
strasse  and  only  made  use  of  on  important  occasions. 
His  name  is  Wolff  —  Johann  Wolff." 

"  And  this  story  of  his?  " 

"  You  ought  to  be  the  best  judge  of  that." 

"  I  am,"  Dominey  assented  confidently.  "  With- 
out the  shadow  of  a  doubt  I  threw  the  body  of  the 
man  I  killed  into  the  Blue  River  and  watched  it  sink." 

"  Then  the  story  is  a  fake,"  Seaman  decided. 
"  For  some  reason  or  other  we  have  come  under  the 
suspicion  of  our  own  secret  service." 

Seaman,  as  they  emerged  into  the  hall,  was  sum- 
moned imperiously  to  her  side  by  the  Princess  Eider- 
strom.  Dominey  disappeared  for  a  moment  and  re- 
turned presently,  having  discarded  some  of  his  soaked 
shooting  garments.  He  was  followed  by  his  valet, 
bearing  a  note  upon  a  silver  tray. 

"  From  the  person  in  Mr.  Parkins'  room  —  to  Mr. 
Seaman,  sir,"  the  man  announced,  in  a  low  tone. 

Dominey  took  it  from  the  salver  with  a  little  nod. 
Then  he  turned  to  where  the  youngest  and  most  frivo- 
lous of  his  guests  was  in  the  act  of  rising  from  the 
tea  table. 

"  A  game  of  pills,  Eddy,"  he  proposed.     "  They 


232        THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

tell  me  that  pool  is  one  of  your  great  accomplish- 
ments." 

"  I'm  pretty  useful,"  the  young  man  confessed, 
with  a  satisfied  chuckle.  "  Give  you  a  black  at 
snooker,  what .''  " 

Domine}^  took  his  arm  and  led  him  into  the  billiard- 
room. 

"  You  will  give  me  nothing,  young  fellow,"  he  re- 
plied. "  Set  them  up,  and  I  will  show  you  how  I 
made  a  living  for  two  months  at  Johannesberg !  " 


CHAPTER  XXII 

The  evening  at  Dominey  Hall  was  practically  a 
repetition  of  the  previous  one,  with  a  different  set  of 
guests  from  the  outer  world.  After  dinner,  Dominey 
was  absent  for  a  few  minutes  and  returned  with  Rosa- 
mund upon  his  arm.  She  received  the  congratula- 
tions of  her  neighbours  charmingly,  and  a  little  court 
soon  gathered  around  her.  Doctor  Harrison,  who 
had  been  dining,  remained  upon  its  outskirts,  listen- 
ing to  her  light-hearted  and  at  times  almost  brilliant 
chatter  with  grave  and  watchful  interest.  Dominey, 
satisfied  that  she  was  being  entertained,  obeyed  Ter- 
nilofF's  gestured  behest  and  strolled  with  him  to  a 
distant  corner  of  the  hall. 

"  Let  me  now,  my  dear  host,"  the  Prince  began, 
with  some  eagerness  in  his  tone,  "  continue  and,  I 
trust,  conclude  the  conversation  to  which  all  that  I 
said  this  morning  was  merelj'  the  prelude." 

"  I  am  entirely  at  your  service,"  murmured  his 
host. 

"  I  have  tried  to  make  you  understand  that  from 
my  own  point  of  view  —  and  I  am  in  a  position  to 
know  something  —  the  fear  of  war  between  this  coun- 
try and  our  own  has  passed.  England  is  willing  to 
make  all  reasonable  sacrifices  to  ensure  peace.  She 
wants  peace,  she  intends  peace,  therefore  there  will 
be  peace.     Therefore,  I  maintain,  mj^  young  friend, 


234        THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

it  is  better  for  you  to  disappear  at  once  from  this 
false  position." 

"  I  am  scarcely  my  own  master,"  Dominey  replied. 
*  You  yourself  must  know  that.  I  am  here  as  a  serv- 
ant under  orders." 

"  Join  your  protest  with  mine,"  the  Prince  sug- 
gested. "  I  will  make  a  report  directl}^  I  get  back 
to  London.  To  my  mind,  the  matter  is  urgent.  If 
an^^thing  should  lead  to  the  discover}'  of  your  false 
position  in  this  country,  the  friendship  between  us 
which  has  become  a  real  pleasure  to  me  must  seriously 
undermine  my  own  position." 

Dominey  had  risen  to  his  feet  and  was  standing  on 
the  hearthrug,  in  front  of  a  fire  of  blazing  logs.  The 
Ambassador  was  sitting  with  crossed  legs  in  a  com- 
fortable  easy-chair,  smoking  one  of  the  long,  thin 
cigars  which  were  his  particular  fanc}'. 

"  Your  Excellency,"  Dominey  said,  "  there  is  just 
one  fallacy  in  all  that  you  have  said." 

"A  fallacy.?" 

"  You  have  come  to  the  absolute  conclusion,"  Dom- 
iney continued,  "  that  because  England  wants  peace 
there  will  be  peace.  I  am  of  Seaman's  mind.  I  be- 
lieve in  the  ultimate  power  of  the  militarj'  party  of 
Germany.  I  believe  that  in  time  they  will  thrust 
their  will  upon  the  Kaiser,  if  he  is  not  at  the  present 
moment  secretly  in  league  with  them.  Therefore,  I 
believe  that  there  will  be  war." 

"  If  I  shared  that  belief  -with  you,  my  friend,"  the 
Ambassador  said  quietly,  "  I  should  consider  my  posi- 
tion here  one  of  dishonour.  ^M}'  mandate  is  for 
peace,  and  my  charge  is  from  the  Kaiser's  lips." 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION        235 

Stephanie,  with  the  air  of  one  a  little  weary  of  the 
conversation,  broke  away  from  a  distant  group  and 
came  towards  them.  Her  beautiful  eyes  seemed  tired, 
she  moved  listlessly,  and  she  even  spoke  with  less  than 
her  usual  assurance, 

"Am  I  disturbing  a  serious  conversation?"  she 
asked.     "  Send  me  away  if  I  am." 

"  His  Excellency  and  I,"  Dominey  observed,  "  have 
reached  a  cul-de-sac  in  our  argument, —  the  blank 
wall  of  good-natured  but  fundamental  disagree- 
ment." 

"  Then  I  shall  claim  you  for  a  while,"  Stephanie 
declared,  taking  Dominey's  arm.  "  Lady  Dominey 
has  attracted  all  the  men  to  her  circle,  and  I  am 
lonely." 

The  Prince  bowed. 

"  I  deny  the  cul-de-sac,"  he  said,  "  but  I  yield  our 
host !     I  shall  seek  my  opponent  at  billiards." 

He  turned  away  and  Stephanie  sank  into  his  vacant 
place. 

"  So  you  and  my  cousin,"  she  remarked,  as  she 
made  room  for  Dominey  to  sit  by  her  side,  "  have 
come  to  a  disagreement." 

"  Not  an  unfriendly  one,"  her  host  assured  her. 

"  That  I  am  sure  of.  Maurice  seems,  indeed,  to 
have  taken  a  wonderful  liking  to  you.  I  cannot  re- 
member that  you  ever  met  before,  except  for  that  day 
or  two  in  Saxony?  " 

"  That  is  so.  The  first  time  I  exchanged  any  inti- 
mate conversation  with  the  Prince  was  in  London.  I 
have  the  utmost  respect  and  regard  for  him,  but  I 
cannot   help   feeling  that   the   pleasant   intimacy   to 


236        THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

which  he  has  admitted  me  is  to  a  large  extent  owing 
to  the  desire  of  our  friends  in  BerHn.  So  far  as  I 
am  concerned,  I  have  never  met  any  one,  of  any  na- 
tion, whose  character  I  admire  more." 

"  Maurice  lives  his  life  loftily.  He  is  one  of  the 
few  great  aristocrats  I  have  met  who  carries  his  no- 
bility of  birth  into  his  simplest  thought  and  action. 
There  is  just  one  thing,"  she  added,  "which  would 
break  his  heart." 

"And  that.?" 

"The  subject  upon  which  you  two  disagree — a 
war  between  Germany  and  this  country." 

"  The  Prince  is  an  idealist,"  Dominey  said. 
"  Sometimes  I  wonder  why  he  was  sent  here,  why 
they  did  not  send  some  one  of  a  more  intriguing 
character." 

She  shrugged  her  shoulders. 

"  You  agree  with  that  great  Frenchman,"  she  ob- 
served, "  that  no  ambassador  can  remain  a  gentle- 
man —  politically." 

"  Well,  I  have  never  been  a  diplomat,  so  I  cannot 
say,"  Dominey  replied. 

"  You  have  many  qualifications,  I  should  think," 
she  observed  cuttingly. 

"Such  as.?" 

"  You  are  absolutely  callous,  absolutely  without 
heart  or  sympathy  where  your  work  is  concerned." 

"  I  do  not  admit  it,"  he  protested. 

"  I  go  back  to  London  to-morrow,"  she  continued, 
"  a  very  miserable  and  unhappy  woman.  I  take  with 
me  the  letter  which  should  have  brought  me  happi- 
ness.     The  love  for  which  I  have  sacrificed  my  life  has 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION        237 

failed  me.  Not  even  the  whip  of  a  royal  command, 
not  even  all  that  I  have  to  offer,  can  give  me  even  five 
seconds  of  happiness." 

"  All  that  I  have  pleaded  for,"  Dominey  reminded 
her  earnestly,  "  is  delay," 

"  And  what  delay  do  you  think,"  she  asked,  with  a 
sudden  note  of  passion  in  her  tone,  "  would  the  Leo- 
pold von  Ragastein  of  six  years  ago  have  pleaded 
for.''  Dela}^ !  He  found  words  then  which  would 
have  melted  an  iceberg.  He  found  words  the  memory 
of  which  comes  to  me  sometimes  in  the  night  and  which 
mock  me.  He  had  no  country  then  save  the  paradise 
where  lovers  walk,  no  ruler  but  a  queen,  and  I  was 
she.     And  now  — " 

Dominey  felt  a  strange  pang  of  distress.  She  saw 
the  unusual  softening  in  his  face,  and  here  eyes  lit. 
up. 

"  Just  for  a  moment,"  she  broke  off,  "  you  were  like 
Leopold.  As  a  rule,  you  know,  you  are  not  like  him. 
I  think  that  you  left  him  somewhere  in  Africa  and 
came  home  in  his  likeness." 

"  Believe  that  for  a  little  time,"  Dominey  begged 
earnestly. 

"What  if  it  were  true.?"  she  asked  abruptly. 
"  There  are  times  when  I  do  not  recognise  you. 
There  are  words  Leopold  used  to  use  which  I  have 
never  heard  from  your  lips.  Is  not  West  Africa 
the  sorcerer's  paradise?  Perhaps  you  are  an  im- 
postor, and  the  man  I  love  is  there  still,  in  trouble  — 
perhaps  ill.  You  play  the  part  of  Everard  Dominey 
like  a  very  king  of  actors.  Perhaps  before  you  came 
here  you  played  the  part  of  Leopold.     You  are  not 


238        THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

my  Leopold.  Love  cannot  die  as  you  would  have  me 
believe." 

"  Now,"  he  said  coolly,  "  you  are  coming  round  to 
my  way  of  thinking.  I  have  been  assuring  you,  from 
the  very  first  moment  we  met  at  the  Carlton,  that  I 
was  not  your  Leopold  —  that  I  was  Everard  Domi- 
ney." 

"  I  shall  put  you  to  the  test,"  she  exclaimed  sud- 
denly, rising  to  her  feet.  "  Your  arm,  if  you 
please." 

She  led  him  across  the  hall  to  where  little  groups  of 
people  were  gossiping,  playing  bridge,  and  Seaman, 
the  centre  of  a  little  group  of  gullible  amateur  specu- 
lators, was  lecturing  on  mines.  They  stopped  to  say 
a  word  or  two  here  and  there,  but  Stephanie's  fingers 
never  left  her  companion's  arm.  They  passed  down 
a  corridor  hung  with  a  collection  of  wonderful  sport- 
ing prints  in  which  she  aflfected  some  interest,  into  a 
small  gallery  which  led  into  the  ballroom.  Here  they 
were  alone.  She  laid  her  hands  upon  his  shoulders 
and  looked  up  into  his  eyes.  Her  lips  drew  nearer  to 
his. 

"  Kiss  me  —  upon  the  lips,  Leopold,"  she  ordered. 

"  There  is  no  Leopold  here,"  he  replied ;  "  you 
yourself  have  said  it." 

She  came  a  little  nearer.  "  Upon  the  lips,"  she 
whispered. 

He  held  her,  stooped  down,  and  their  lips  met. 
Then  she  stood  apart  from  him.  Her  eyes  were  for 
a  moment  closed,  her  hands  were  extended  as  though 
to  prevent  any  chance  of  his  approaching  her  again. 

"  Now  I  know  the  truth,"  she  muttered. 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION        239 

Dominey  found  an  opportunity  to  draw  Seaman 
away  from  his  little  group  of  investment-seeking 
friends. 

"  My  friend,"  he  said,  "  trouble  grows." 

"  Anj'thing  more  from  Schmidt's  supposed  emis- 
sary? "  Seaman  asked  quickly. 

"  No.  I  am  going  to  keep  away  from  him  this 
evening,  and  I  advise  you  to  do  the  same.  The 
trouble  is  with  the  Princess." 

"  With  the  Princess,"  declared  Seaman.  "  I  think 
you  have  blundered.  I  quite  appreciate  your  general 
principles  of  behaving  internal!}'  and  externally  as 
though  you  were  the  person  whom  3'ou  pretend  to 
be.  It  is  the  very  essence  of  all  successful  espionage. 
But  you  should  know  when  to  make  exceptions.  I  see 
grave  objections  m^'self  to  your  obej'ing  the  Kaiser's 
behest.  On  the  other  hand,  I  see  no  objection  what- 
ever to  3'our  treating  the  Princess  in  a  more  human 
manner,  to  your  visiting  her  in  London,  and 
giving  her  more  ardent  proofs  of  your  continued 
affection." 

"  If  I  once  begin  — " 

"  Look  here,"  Seaman  interrupted,  "  the  Princess 
is  a  woman  of  the  world.  She  knows  what  she  is 
doing,  and  there  is  a  definite  tie  between  you.  I  tell 
you  frankly  that  I  could  not  bear  to  see  you  playing 
the  idiot  for  a  moment  with  Lady  Dominey,  but  with 
the  Princess,  scruples  don't  enter  into  the  question 
at  all.  You  should  by  no  means  make  an  enemy  of 
her." 

"  Well,  I  have  done  it,"  Dominey  acknowledged. 
"  She  has  gone  off  to  bed  now,  and  she  is  leaving  early 


240        THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

to-morrow  morning.  She  thinks  I  have  borrowed 
some  West  African  magic,  that  I  have  left  her  lover's 
soul  out  there  and  come  home  in  his  body." 

"  Well,  if  she  does,"  Seaman  declared,  "  you  are 
out  of  your  troubles." 

"  Am  I !  "  Dominey  replied  gloomily.  "  First  of 
all,  she  may  do  a  lot  of  mischief  before  she  goes.  And 
then,  supposing  by  any  thousand  to  one  chance  the 
story  of  this  cousin  of  Schmidt's  should  be  true,  and 
she  should  find  Dominey  out  there,  still  alive.''  The 
Princess  is  not  of  German  birth,  you  know.  She 
cares  nothing  for  Germany's  future.  As  a  matter  of 
fact,  I  think,  like  a  great  many  Hungarians,  she  pre- 
fers England.  They  say  that  an  Englishman  has  as 
many  lives  as  a  cat.  Supposing  that  chap  Dominey 
did  come  to  life  again  and  she  brings  him  home?  You 
say  yourself  that  you  do  not  mean  to  make  much  use 
of  me  until  after  the  war  has  started.  In  the  par- 
lance of  this  country  of  idioms,  that  will  rather  upset 
the  apple  cart,  will  it  not?  " 

"  Has  the  Princess  a  suite  of  rooms  here?  "  Seaman 
enquired. 

"  Over  in  the  west  wing.  Good  idea !  You  go  and 
see  what  you  can  do  with  her.  She  will  not  think  of 
going  to  bed  at  this  time  of  night." 

Seaman  nodded. 

"  Leave  it  to  me,"  he  directed.  "  You  go  out  and 
play  the  host." 

Dominey  played  the  host  first  and  then  the  hus- 
band. Rosamund  welcomed  him  with  a  little  cry  of 
pleasure. 

"  I  have  been  enjoying  myself  so  much,  Everard!  " 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION        241 

she  exclaimed.  "  Everybody  has  been  so  kind,  and 
Mr.  Mangan  has  taught  me  a  new  Patience." 

"  And  now,  I  think,"  Doctor  Harrison  intervened 
a  little  gruffly,  "  it's  time  to  knock  off  for  the  eve- 
ning." 

She  turned  very  sweetly  to  Everard. 

"  Will  you  take  me  upstairs  .'*  "  she  begged.  "  I 
have  been  hoping  so  much  that  you  would  come  before 
Doctor  Harrison  sent  me  off." 

"  I  should  have  been  very  disappointed  if  I  had  been 
too  late,"  Dominey  assured  her.  "  Now  say  good 
night  to  ever^'bod}'." 

"  Why,  you  talk  to  me  as  though  I  were  a  child," 
she  laughed.  "  Well,  good-b^'e,  everybody,  then. 
You  see,  my  stern  husband  is  taking  me  off.  When 
are  3'ou  coming  to -see  me,  Doctor  Harrison.''  " 

"  Nothing  to  see  you  for,"  was  the  gruflP  reply. 
"  You  are  as  well  as  any  woman  here," 

"  Just  a  little  unsympathetic,  isn't  he.''  "  she  com- 
plained to  Dominey.  "  Please  take  me  through  the 
hall,  so  that  I  can  say  good-bye  to  every  one  else.  Is 
the  Princess  Eiderstrom  there?  " 

"  I  am  afraid  that  she  has  gone  to  bed,"  Dominey 
answered,  as  they  passed  out  of  the  room.  "  She  said 
something  about  a  headache." 

"  She  is  very  beautiful,"  Rosamund  said  wistfully. 
"  I  wish  she  looked  as  though  she  liked  me  a  little 
more.     Is  she  very  fond  of  you,  Everard.''  " 

"  I  think  that  I  am  rather  in  her  bad  books  just  at 
present,"  Dominey  confessed. 

"  I  wonder !  I  am  very  observant,  and  I  have  seen 
her  looking  at  you  sometimes  —     Of  course,"  Rosa- 


242        THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

mund  went  on,  "  as  I  am  not  really  your  wife  and  you 
are  not  really  my  husband,  it  is  very  stupid  of  me  to 
feel  jealous,  isn't  it,  Everard?  " 

"  Not  a  bit,"  he  answered.  "  If  I  am  not  your 
husband,  I  will  not  be  anybody  else's." 

"  I  love  you  to  say  that,"  she  admitted,  with  a  little 
sigh,  "  but  it  seems  wrong  somewhere.  Look  how 
cross  the  Duchess  looks  !  Some  one  must  have  played 
the  wrong  card." 

Rosamund's  farewells  were  not  easily  made ;  Ter- 
niloff  especially  seemed  reluctant  to  let  her  go.  She 
excused  herself  gracefully,  however,  promising  to  sit 
up  a  little  later  the  next  evening.  Dominey  led  the 
way  upstairs,  curiously  gratified  at  her  lingering 
progress.  He  took  her  to  the  door  of  her  room  and 
looked  in.  The  nurse  was  sitting  in  an  easy-chair, 
reading,  and  the  maid  was  sewing  in  the  background. 

"  Well,  you  look  very  comfortable  here,"  he  de- 
clared cheerfully.     "  Pray  do  not  move,  nurse." 

Rosamund  held  his  hands,  as  though  reluctant  to 
let  him  go.  Then  she  drew  his  face  down  and  kissed 
him. 

"  Yes,"  she  said  a  little  plaintively,  "  it's  very  com- 
fortable.—     Everard? " 

"Yes,  dear.?" 

She  drew  his  head  down  and  whispered  in  his  ear. 

"  May  I  come  in  and  say  good  night  for  two  min- 
utes.?" 

He  smiled  —  a  wonderfully  kind  smile  —  but  shook 
his  head. 

"  Not  to-night,  dear,"  he  replied.  "  The  Prince 
loves  to  sit  up  late,  and  I  shall  be  downstairs  with 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION        243 

him.  Besides,  that  bully  of  a  doctor  of  yours  insists 
upon  ten  hours'  sleep." 

She  sighed  like  a  disappointed  child. 

"  Very  well."  She  paused  for  a  moment  to  listen. 
"  Wasn't  that  a  car?  "  she  asked. 

"  Some  of  our  guests  going  early,  I  dare  say,"  he 
replied,  as  he  turned  away. 


CHAPTER  XXIII 

Seaman  did  not  at  once  start  on  his  mission  to  the 
Princess.  He  made  his  way  instead  to  the  ser\'ants' 
quarters  and  knocked  at  the  door  of  the  butler's  sit- 
ting-room. There  was  no  reply.  He  tried  the  han- 
dle in  vain.  The  door  was  locked.  A  tall,  grave- 
faced  man  in  sombre  black  came  out  from  an  adjoin- 
ing apartment. 

"  You  are  looking  for  the  person  who  arrived  this 
evening  from  abroad,  sir?  "  he  enquired. 

"  I  am,"  Seaman  replied.  "  Has  he  locked  him- 
self in?  " 

"  He  has  left  the  Hall,  sir !  " 

"  Left !  "  Seaman  repeated.  "  Do  you  mean  gone 
away  for  good?  " 

"  Apparently,  sir.  I  do  not  understand  his  lan- 
guage myself,  but  I  believe  he  considered  his  reception 
here,  for  some  reason  or  other,  unfavourable.  He 
took  advantage  of  the  car  which  went  down  to  the 
station  for  the  evening  papers  and  caught  the  last 
train." 

Seaman  was  silent  for  a  moment.  The  news  was  a 
shock  to  him. 

"What  is  your  position  here?"  he  asked  his  in- 
formant. 

"  My  name  is  Reynolds,  sir,"  was  the  respectful 
reply.     "  I  am  Mr.  Pelham's  servant." 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION        245 

"  Can  you  tell  me  why,  if  this  man  has  left,  the 
door  here  is  locked?  " 

"  Mr.  Parkins  locked  it  before  he  went  out,  sir. 
He  accompanied  —  Mr.  Miller,  I  think  his  name 
was  —  to  the  station." 

Seaman  had  the  air  of  a  man  not  wholly  satisfied. 

"  Is  it  usual  to  lock  up  a  sitting-room  in  this  fash- 
ion? "  he  asked. 

"  Mr.  Parkins  always  does  it,  sir.  The  cabinets 
of  cigars  are  kept  there,  also  the  wine-cellar  key  and 
the  key  of  the  plate  chest.  None  of  the  other  serv- 
ants use  the  room  except  at  Mr.  Parkins'  invitation." 

"  I  understand,"  Seaman  said,  as  he  turned  away. 
"  Much  obliged  for  your  information,  Reynolds.  I 
will  speak  to  Mr.  Parkins  later." 

"  I  will  let  him  know  that  you  desire  to  see  him, 
sir." 

"  Good  night,  Reynolds  !  " 

"  Good  night,  sir  !  " 

Seaman  passed  back  again  to  the  crowded  hall  and 
billiard-room,  exchanged  a  few  remarks  here  and 
there,  and  made  his  way  up  the  southern  flight  of 
stairs  towards  the  west  wing.  Stephanie  consented 
without  hesitation  to  receive  him.  She  was  seated  in 
front  of  the  fire,  reading  a  novel,  in  a  boudoir  open- 
ing out  of  her  bedroom. 

"  Princess,"  Seaman  declared,  with  a  low  bow,  "  we 
are  in  despair  at  your  desertion." 

She  put  down  her  book. 

"  I  have  been  insulted  in  this  house,"  she  said. 
"  To-morrow  I  leave  it." 

Seaman  shook  his  head  reproachfully. 


246        THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

"  Your  Highness,"  he  continued,  "  believe  me,  I  do 
not  wish  to  presume  upon  my  position.  I  am  only  a 
German  tradesman,  admitted  to  circles  like  these  for 
reasons  connected  solely  with  the  welfare  of  my  coun- 
try. Yet  I  know  much,  as  it  happens,  of  the  truth  of 
this  matter,  the  matter  which  is  causing  you  distress. 
I  beg  you  to  reconsider  your  decision.  Our  friend 
here  is,  I  think,  needlessly  hard  upon  himself.  So 
much  the  greater  will  be  his  reward  when  the  end 
comes.  So  much  the  greater  will  be  the  rapture  with 
which  he  will  throw  himself  on  his  knees  before  you." 

"  Has  he  sent  you  to  reason  with  me?  " 

"  Not  directly.  I  am  to  a  certain  extent,  however, 
his  major-domo  in  this  enterprise.  I  brought  him 
from  Africa.  I  have  watched  over  him  from  the 
start.  Two  brains  are  better  than  one.  I  try  to 
show  him  where  to  avoid  mistakes,  I  try  to  point  out 
the  paths  of  danger  and  of  safety." 

"  I  should  imagine  Sir  Everard  finds  you  useful," 
she  remarked  calmly. 

"  I  hope  he  does." 

"  It  has  doubtless  occurred  to  you,"  she  continued, 
"  that  oiir  friend  has  accommodated  himself  wonder- 
fully to  English  life  and  customs?  " 

"  You  must  remember  that  he  was  educated  here. 
Nevertheless,  his  aptitude  has  been  marvellous." 

"  One  might  almost  call  it  supernatural,"  she 
agreed.  "  Tell  me,  Mr.  Seaman,  you  seem  to  have 
been  completely  successful  in  the  installation  of  our 
friend  here  as  Sir  Everard.  What  is  going  to  be  his 
real  value  to  you  ?     What  work  will  he  do  ?  " 

"  We  are  keeping  him   for   the  big  things.     You 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION        247 

have  seen  our  gracious  master  lately?  "  he  added 
hesitatinglj'. 

"  I  know  what  is  at  the  back  of  your  mind,"  she 
replied.  "  Yes !  Before  the  summer  is  over  I  am  to 
pack  up  my  trunks  and  fly.     I  understand." 

"  It  is  when  that  time  comes,"  Seaman  said  impres- 
sively, "  that  we  expect  Sir  Everard  Dominey,  the 
typical  English  country  gentleman,  of  whose  loyalty 
there  has  never  been  a  word  of  doubt,  to  be  of  use  to 
us.  Most  of  our  present  helpers  will  be  under  sus- 
picion. The  authorised  staff  of  our  secret  service 
can  only  work  underneath.  You  can  see  for  yourself 
the  advantage  we  gain  in  having  a  confidential  corre- 
spondent who  can  day  by  day  reflect  the  changing 
psychology  of  the  British  mind  in  all  its  phases.  We 
have  quite  enough  of  the  other  sort  of  help  arranged 
for.  Plans  of  ships,  aerodromes  and  harbours,  sail- 
ings of  convoys,  calling  up  of  soldiers  —  all  these  are 
the  A.  B.  C.  of  the  secret  service  profession.  We 
shall  never  ask  our  friend  here  for  a  single  fact,  but, 
from  his  town  house  in  Berkeley  Square,  the  host  of 
Cabinet  Ministers,  of  soldiers,  of  the  best  brains  of 
the  countr}^,  our  fingers  will  never  leave  the  pulse  of 
Britain's  day  by  day  life." 

Stephanie  threw  herself  back  in  her  easy-chair  and 
clasped  her  hands  behind  her  head. 

"  These  things  you  are  expecting  from  our  present 
host?" 

"  We  are,  and  we  expect  to  get  them.  I  have 
watched  him  day  by  day.  My  confidence  in  him  has 
grown." 

Stephanie  was  silent.      She  sat  looking  into  the  fire. 


248        THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

Seaman,  keenly  observant  as  always,  realised  the 
change  in  her,  yet  found  something  of  mj'ster^'  in  her 
new  detachment  of  manner. 

"  Your  Higlmess,"  he  urged,  "  I  am  not  here  to 
speak  on  behalf  of  the  man  who  at  heart  is,  I  know, 
your  lover.  He  will  plead  his  own  cause  when  the 
time  comes.  But  I  am  here  to  plead  for  patience,  I 
am  here  to  implore  you  to  take  no  rash  step,  to  do 
nothing  which  might  imperil  in  any  way  his  position 
here.  I  stand  outside  the  gates  of  the  world  which 
your  sex  can  make  a  paradise.  I  am  no  judge  of  the 
things  that  happen  there.  But  in  3'our  heart  I  feel 
there  is  bitterness,  because  the  man  for  whom  you 
care  has  chosen  to  place  his  country  first.  I  implore 
your  patience.  Princess.  I  implore  you  to  believe 
what  I  know  so  well, —  that  it  is  the  sternest  sense  of 
duty  only  which  is  the  foundation  of  Leopold  von 
Ragastein's  obdurate  attitude." 

"  What  are  you  afraid  that  I  shall  do.''  "  she  asked 
curiously. 

"  I  am  afraid  of  nothing  —  directly." 
"  Indirectly,  then  ?  Answer  me,  please." 
"  I  am  afraid,"  he  admitted  frankly,  "  that  in 
some  corner  of  the  world,  if  not  in  this  country,  you 
might  whisper  a  word,  a  scoffing  or  an  angry  sentence, 
which  would  make  people  wonder  what  grudge  you 
had  against  a  simple  Norfolk  baronet.  I  would  not 
like  that  word  spoken  in  the  presence  of  any  one  who 
knew  your  history  and  realised  the  rather  amazing 
likeness  between  Sir  Everard  Dominey  and  Baron 
Leopold  von  Ragastein." 

"  I  see,"  Stephanie  murmured,  a  faint  smile  part- 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION        249 

ing  her  lips.  "  Well,  Mr.  Seaman,  I  do  not  think 
that  you  need  have  many  fears.  What  I  shall  carry 
away  with  me  in  my  heart  is  not  for  you  or  any 
man  to  know.  In  a  few  days  I  shall  leave  this 
country." 

"  You  are  going  back  to  Berlin  —  to  Hungar}^?  " 
She  shook  her  head,  beckoned  her  maid  to  open  the 
door,  and  held  out  her  hand  in  token  of  dismissal. 

"  I  am  going  to  take  a  sea  voyage,"  she  announced. 
"  I  shall  go  to  Africa." 

The  morrow  was  a  day  of  mild  surprises.  Eddy 
Pelham's  empty  place  was  the  first  to  attract  notice, 
towards  the  end  of  breakfast  time. 

"  Where's  the  pink  and  white  immaculate.''  "  the 
Right  Honourable  gentleman  asked.  "  I  miss  my 
morning  wonder  as  to  how  he  tied  his  tie." 

"  Gone,"  Dominey  replied,  looking  round  from  the 
sideboard. 

"  Gone.''  "  every  one  repeated. 

"  I  should  think  such  a  thing  has  never  happened 
to  him  before,"  Dominey  observed.  "  He  was  wanted 
in  town." 

"  Fancy  any  one  wanting  Eddy  for  any  serious 
purpose !  "  Caroline  murmured. 

"  P^ancy  any  one  wanting  him  badly  enough  to 
drag  him  out  of  bed  in  the  middle  of  the  night  with 
a  telephone  call  and  send  him  up  to  town  by  the 
breakfast  train  from  Norwich  !  "  their  host  continued. 
"  I  thought  we  had  started  a  new  ghost  when  he  came 
into  my  room  in  a  purple  dressing-gown  and  broke 
the  news." 


250        THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

"  Who  wanted  him  ?  "  the  Duke  enquired.  "  His 
tailor?  " 

"  Business  of  importance  was  his  pretext,"  Domi- 
nej  replied. 

There  was  a  little  ripple  of  good-humoured  laugh- 
ter. 

"Does  Eddy  do  anything  for  a  living?  "  Caroline 
asked,  yawning. 

"  Mr.  Pelham  is  a  director  of  the  Chelsea  Motor 
Works,"  Mangan  told  them.  "  He  received  a  small 
legacy  last  year,  and  his  favourite  taxicab  man  was 
the  first  to  know  about  it." 

"  You're  not  suggesting,"  she  exclaimed,  "  that  it 
is  business  of  that  sort  which  has  taken  Eddy  away !  " 

"  I  should  think  it  most  improbable,"  Mangan  con- 
fessed. "  As  a  matter  of  fact,  he  asked  me  the  other 
day  if  I  knew  where  their  premises  were." 

"  We  shall  miss  him,"  she  acknowledged.  "  It  was 
quite  one  of  the  events  of  the  day  to  see  his  costume 
after  shooting." 

"  His  bridge  was  reasonably  good,"  the  Duke  com- 
mented. 

"  He  shot  rather  well  the  last  two  days,"  Mangan 
remarked. 

"  And  he  had  told  me  confidentially,"  Caroline  con- 
cluded, "  that  he  was  going  to  wear  brown  to-day. 
Now  I  think  Eddy  would  have  looked  nice  in  brown." 

The  missing  young  man's  requiem  was  finished  by 
the  arrival  of  the  local  morning  papers.  A  few  mo- 
ments later  Dominey  rose  and  left  the  room.  Sea- 
man, who  had  been  unusually  silent,  followed  him. 

"  My  friend,"  he  confided,  "  I  do  not  know  whether 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION        251 

you  have  heard,  but  there  was  another  curious  dis- 
appearance from  the  Hall  last  night." 

"Whose?  "  Domincy  asked,  pausing  in  the  act  of 
selecting  a  cigarette. 

"  Our  friend  Miller,  or  Wolff  —  Doctor  Schmidt's 
emissary,"  Seaman  announced,  "  has  disappeared." 

"  Disappeared.''  "  Dominey  repeated.  "  I  suppose 
he  is  having  a  prowl  round  somewhere." 

"  I  have  left  it  to  you  to  make  more  careful  en- 
quiries," Seaman  replied.  "  All  I  can  tell  you  is  that 
I  made  up  my  mind  last  night  to  interview  him  once 
more  and  try  to  fathom  his  very  m3'sterious  behav- 
iour. I  found  the  door  of  your  butler's  sitting-room 
locked,  and  a  very  civil  fellow  —  Mr.  Pelham's  valet 
he  turned  out  to  be  —  told  me  that  he  had  left  in  the 
car  which  went  for  the  evening  papers." 

"  I  will  go  and  make  some  enquiries,"  Dominey  de- 
cided, after  a  moment's  puzzled  consideration. 

"  If  3'ou  please,"  Seaman  acquiesced.  "  The  affair 
disconcerts  me  because  I  do  not  understand  it.  When 
there  is  a  thing  which  I  do  not  understand,  I  am  un- 
comfortable." 

Dominey  vanished  into  the  nether  regions,  spent 
half  an  hour  with  Rosamund,  and  saw  nothing  of  his 
disturbed  guest  again  until  they  were  walking  to  the 
first  wood.  They  had  a  moment  together  after  Dom- 
iney had  pointed  out  the  stands. 

"  Well .''  "  Seaman  enquired. 

"  Our  friend,"  Dominey  announced,  "  apparently 
made  up  his  mind  to  go  quite  suddenly.  A  bed  was 
arranged  for  him  —  or  rather  it  is  always  there  —  in 
a  small  apartment  opening  out  of  the  butler's  room, 


252        THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

on  the  ground  floor.  He  said  nothing  about  leaving 
until  he  saw  Parkins  preparing  to  go  down  to  the 
station  with  the  chauffeur.  Then  he  insisted  upon 
accompanying  him,  and  when  he  found  there  was  a 
train  to  Norwich  he  simply  bade  them  both  good 
night.  He  left  no  message  whatever  for  either  you 
or  me." 

Seaman  was  thoughtful. 

"  There  is  no  doubt,"  he  said,  "  that  his  departure 
was  indicative  of  a  certain  distrust  in  us.  He  came 
to  find  out  something,  and  I  suppose  he  found  it  out. 
I  envy  you  your  composure,  my  friend.  We  live  on 
the  brink  of  a  volcano,  and  you  shoot  pheasants." 

"  We  will  try  a  partridge  for  a  change,"  Dominey 
observed,  swinging  round  as  a  single  Frenchman  with 
a  dull  whiz  crossed  the  hedge  behind  them  and  fell  a 
little  distance  away,  a  crumpled  heap  of  feathers. 
"  Neat,  I  think?  "  he  added,  turning  to  his  companion. 

"  Marvellous !  "  Seaman  replied,  with  faint  sar- 
casm.     "  I  envy  your  nerve." 

"  I  cannot  take  this  matter  very  seriously,"  Domi- 
ney acknowledged.  "  The  fellow  seemed  to  me  quite 
harmless." 

"  My  anxieties  have  also  been  aroused  in  another 
direction,"  Seaman  confided. 

"Any  other  trouble  looming?  "  Dominey  asked. 

"  You  will  find  yourself  minus  another  guest  when 
you  return  this  afternoon." 

"The  Princess?" 

"  The  Princess,"  Seaman  assented.  "  I  did  my 
best  with  her  last  night,  but  I  found  her  in  a  most 
peculiar  frame  of  mind.     We  are  to  be  relieved  of  any 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION        253 

anxiety  concerning  her  for  some  time,  however.  She 
has  decided  to  take  a  sea  voyage." 

"Whereto.?" 

"  Africa ! " 

Dominey  paused  in  the  act  of  inserting  a  cartridge 
into  his  gun.  He  turned  slowly  around  and  looked 
into  his  companion's  expressionless  face. 

"Why  the  mischief  is  she  going  out  there.'*"  he 
asked. 

"  I  can  no  more  tell  you  that,"  Seaman  replied, 
"  than  why  Johann  Wolff  was  sent  over  here  to  spy 
upon  our  perfect  work.  I  am  most  unhappy,  my 
friend.  The  things  which  I  understand,  however 
threatening  they  are,  I  do  not  fear.  Things  which  I 
do  not  understand  oppress  me." 

Dominey  laughed  quietly. 

"  Come,"  he  said,  "  there  is  nothing  here  which  seri- 
ously threatens  our  position.  The  Princess  is  angry, 
but  she  is  not  likely  to  give  us  away.  This  man 
Wolff  could  make  no  adverse  report  about  either  of 
us.  We  are  doing  our  job  and  doing  it  well.  Let 
our  clear  consciences  console  us." 

"  That  is  well,"  Seaman  replied,  "  but  I  feel  un- 
easy. I  must  not  stay  here  any  longer.  Too 
intimate  an  association  between  you  and  me  is  un- 
wise." 

"  WeU,  I  think  I  can  be  trusted,"  Dominey  ob- 
served, "  even  if  I  am  to  be  left  alone." 

"  In  every  respect  except  as  regards  the  Princess," 
Seaman  admitted,  "  your  deportment  has  been  most 
discreet," 

"  Except  as  regards  the  Princess,"  Dominey  re- 


254       THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

peated  irritably.  "  Really,  my  friend,  I  cannot  un- 
derstand 3'our  point  of  view  in  this  matter.  You 
could  not  expect  me  to  mix  up  a  secret  honeymoon 
with  my  present  commitments  !  " 

"  There  might  surely  have  been  some  middle  way?  " 
Seaman  persisted.  "  You  show  so  much  tact  in  other 
matters." 

"  You  do  not  know  the  Princess,"  Dominey  mut- 
tered. 

Rosamund  joined  them  for  luncheon,  bringinf^ 
news  of  Stephanie's  sudden  departure,  with  notes  and 
messages  for  everybody.  Caroline  made  a  little 
grimace  at  her  host. 

"  You're  in  trouble !  "  she  whispered  in  his  ear. 
"  All  the  same,  I  approve.  I  like  Stephanie,  but  she 
is  an  exceedingly  dangerous  person." 

"  I  wonder  whether  she  is,"  Dominey  mused. 

"  I  think  men  have  generally  found  her  so,"  Caro- 
line replied.  "  She  had  one  wonderful  love  affair, 
which  ended,  as  you  know,  in  her  husband  being  killed 
in  a  duel  and  her  lover  being  banished  from  the  coun- 
try. Still,  she's  not  quite  the  sort  of  woman  to  be 
content  with  a  banished  lover.  I  fancied  I  noticed 
distinct  signs  of  her  being  willing  to  replace  him 
whilst  she  has  been  down  here !  " 

"  I  feel  as  though  a  blight  had  settled  upon  my 
house  party,"  Dominey  remarked  with  bland  irrele- 
vancy. "  First  Eddy,  then  Mr.  Ludwig  Miller,  and 
now  Stephanie." 

"  And  who  on  earth  was  Mr.  Ludwig  Miller,  after 
all.'^"  Caroline  enquired. 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION        255 

"  He  was  a  fat,  flaxen-haired  German  who  brought 
me  messages  from  old  friends  in  Africa.  He  had  no 
luggage  but  a  walking  stick,  and  he  seems  to  have 
upset  the  male  part  of  my  domestics  last  night  by 
accepting  a  bed  and  then  disappearing !  " 

"With  the  plate?" 

"  Not  a  thing  missing.  Parkins  spent  an  agon- 
ised half  hour,  counting  everything.  Mr.  Ludwig 
appears  to  be  one  of  those  unsolved  mysteries  which 
go  to  make  up  an  imperfect  world." 

"Well,  we've  had  a  jolly  time,"  Caroline  said 
reminiscently.  "  To-morrow  Henry  and  I  are  off, 
and  I  suppose  the  others.  I  must  say  on  the  whole  I 
am  delighted  with  our  visit." 

"  You  are  very  gracious,"  Dominey  murmured. 

"  I  came,  perhaps,  expecting  to  see  a  little  more  of 
you,"  she  w^ent  on  deliberately,  "  but  there  is  a  very 
great  compensation  for  my  disappointment.  I  think 
your  wife,  Everard,  is  worth  taking  trouble  about. 
She  is  perfectly  sweet,  and  her  manners  are  most 
attractive." 

"  I  am  very  glad  you  think  that,"  he  said  warmly. 

She  looked  away  from  him. 

"  Everard,"  she  sighed,  "  I  believe  you  are  in  love 
with  your  wife." 

There  was  a  strange,  almost  a  terrible  mixture  of 
expressions  in  his  face  as  he  answered, —  a  certain 
fear,  a  certain  fondness,  a  certain  almost  desperate 
resignation.  Even  his  voice,  as  a  rule  so  slow  and 
measured,  shook  with  an  emotion  which  amazed  his 
companion. 

"  I  believe  I  am,"  he  muttered.     "  I  am  afraid  of 


256        THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

my  feelings  for  her.  It  may  bring  even  another  trag- 
edy down  upon  us." 

"  Don't  talk  rubbish ! "  Caroline  exclaimed. 
"What  tragedy  could  come  between  you  now? 
YouVe  recovered  your  balance.  You  are  a  strong, 
steadfast  person,  just  fitted  to  be  the  protector  of 
anything  so  sweet  and  charming  as  Rosamund. 
Tragedy,  indeed !  Why  don't  you  take  her  down  to 
the  South  of  France,  Everard,  and  have  your  honey- 
moon all  over  again?" 

"  I  can't  do  that  just  yet." 

She  studied  him  curiously.  There  were  times  when 
he  seemed  wholly  incomprehensible  to  her. 

"  Are  3'ou  still  worried  about  that  Unthank  af- 
fair? "  she  asked. 

He  hesitated  for  a  moment. 

"  There  is  still  an  aftermath  to  our  troubles,"  he 
told  her,  "  one  cloud  which  leans  over  us.  I  shall 
clear  it  up  in  time, —  but  other  things  may  happen 
first." 

"  You  take  yourself  very  seriously,  Everard,"  she 
observed,  looking  at  him  with  a  puzzled  expression. 
"  One  would  think  that  there  was  a  side  of  your  life, 
and  a  very  important  one,  which  you  kept  entirely 
to  3^ourself.  Why  do  you  have  that  funny  little 
man  Seaman  always  round  with  3^ou?  You're  not 
being  blackmailed  or  anything,  are  you?  " 

"  On  the  contrary,"  he  told  her,  "  Seaman  was  the 
first  founder  of  my  fortunes." 

She  shrugged  her  shoulders. 

"  I  have  made  a  little  mone^^  once  or  twice  on  the 
Stock  Exchange,"  she  remarked,  "  but  I  didn't  have 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION         257 

to  carry  my  broker  about  in  my  pocket  afterwards." 

"  Seaman  is  a  good-hearted  little  fellow,  and  he 
loves  companionship.  He  will  drift  away  presently, 
and  one  won't  see  anything  of  him  for  ages." 

"  Henry  began  to  wonder,"  she  concluded  drily, 
"  whether  you  were  going  to  stand  for  Parliament 
on  the  Anglo-German  alliance  ticket." 

Dominey  laughed  as  he  caught  Middleton's  re- 
proachful eye  in  the  doorway  of  the  farmer's  kitchen 
in  which  they  were  lunching.  He  gave  the  signal  to 
rise. 

"  I  have  had  some  thoughts  of  Parliament,"  he 
admitted,  "  but  —  well,  Henry  need  not  worry." 


CHAPTER  XXIV 

The  next  morning  saw  the  breaking-up  of  Dom- 
iney's  carefully  arranged  shooting  party.  The 
Prince  took  his  host's  arm  and  led  him  to  one  side 
for  a  few  moments,  as  the  cars  were  being  loaded  up. 
His  first  few  words  Avere  of  formal  thanks.  He  spoke 
then  more  intimately. 

"  Yon  Ragastein,"  he  said,  "  I  desire  to  refer  back 
for  a  moment  to  our  conversation  the  other  day." 

Dominey  shook  his  head  and  glanced  behind. 

"  I  know  only  one  name  here.  Prince." 

"  Dominey,  then.  I  will  confess  that  you  play 
and  carry  the  part  through  perfectly.  I  have  known 
English  gentlemen  all  my  life,  and  you  have  the  trick 
of  the  thing.  But  listen.  I  have  already  told  you 
of  my  disapproval  of  this  scheme  in  which  you  are 
the  central  figure." 

"  It  is  understood,"  Dominey  assented. 

"  That,"  the  Prince  continued,  "  is  a  personal  mat- 
ter. What  I  am  now  going  to  say  to  3'ou  is  official. 
I  had  despatches  from  Berlin  last  night.  They  con- 
cern you." 

Dominey  seemed  to  stiffen  a  little. 

"Well.?"" 

"  I  am  given  to  understand,"  the  Ambassador  con- 
tinued, "  that  you  practically  exist  onh'  in  the  event 
of  that  catastrophe  which  I,  for  one,  cannot  foresee. 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION        259 

I  am  assured  that  if  your  exposure  should  take  place 
at  any  time,  your  personation  will  be  regarded  as  a 
private  enterprise,  and  there  is  nothing  whatever  to 
connect  you  with  an}'  political  work," 

"  Up  to  the  present  that  is  absolutely  so,"  Dom- 
iney  agreed. 

"  I  am  further  advised  to  look  upon  you  as  my  un- 
named and  unsuspected  successor  here,  in  the  event 
of  war.  For  that  reason  I  am  begged  to  inaugurate 
terms  of  intimacy  with  you,  to  treat  you  with  the 
utmost  confidence,  and,  if  the  black  end  should  come, 
to  leave  in  your  hands  all  such  unfulfilled  work  as  can 
be  continued  in  secrecy  and  silence.  I  perhaps  ex- 
press myself  in  a  somewhat  confused  manner." 

"  I  understand  perfectly,"  Dominey  replied. 
"  The  authorities  have  changed  their  first  ideas  as 
to  my  presence  here.  They  want  to  keep  every 
shadow  of  suspicion  away  from  me,  so  that  in  the 
event  of  war  I  shall  have  an  absolute!}'  unique  posi- 
tion, an  unsuspected  yet  fervently  patriotic  German, 
living  hand  in  glove  with  the  upper  classes  of  Eng- 
lish Society.  One  can  well  imagine  that  there  would 
be  work  for  me." 

"  Our  understanding  is  mutual,"  TernilofF  de- 
clared. "  What  I  have  to  say  to  you,  therefore,  is 
that  I  hope  you  will  soon  follow  us  to  London  and 
give  me  the  opportunity  of  offering  you  the  constant 
hospitality  of  Carlton  House  Gardens." 

"  You  are  very  kind.  Prince,"  Dominey  said. 
"  My  instructions  are,  as  soon  as  I  have  consolidated 
my  position  here  —  an  event  which  I  fancy  I  may 
consider   attained  —  to  establish  mvsclf  in   London 


26o        THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

and  to  wait  orders.  I  trust  that  amongst  other 
things  you  will  then  permit  me  to  examine  the  mem- 
oirs you  spoke  of  the  other  day." 

"  Naturally,  and  with  the  utmost  pleasure,"  the 
Ambassador  assented.  "  They  are  a  faithful  record 
of  my  interviews  and  negotiations  with  certain  Min- 
isters here,  and  they  reflect  a  desire  and  intention 
for  peace  which  will,  I  think,  amaze  you. —  I  ven- 
ture now  upon  a  somewhat  delicate  question,"  he 
continued,  changing  the  subject  of  their  conversa- 
tion abruptly,  as  they  turned  back  along  the  terrace. 
"Lady  Dominey  will  accompan^^  you?  " 

"  Of  that  I  am  not  sure,"  Dominey  replied  thought- 
fully. "  I  have  noticed,  Prince,  if  I  may  be  allowed 
to  say  so,  your  chivalrous  regard  for  that  lady. 
You  will  permit  me  to  assure  you  that  in  the  peculiar 
position  in  which  I  am  placed  I  shall  never  forget 
that  she  is  the  wife  of  Everard  Dominey." 

TernilofF  shook  hands  heartily. 

"  I  wanted  to  hear  that  from  you,"  he  admitted. 
"  You  I  felt  instinctively  were  different,  but  there 
are  many  men  of  our  race  who  are  willing  enough  to 
sacrifice  a  woman  without  the  slightest  scruple,  either 
for  their  passions  or  their  policy.  I  find  Lady  Dom- 
iney charming." 

"  She  will  never  lack  a  protector  in  me,"  Dominey 
declared. 

There  were  more  farewells  and,  soon  after,  the 
little  procession  of  cars  drove  off.  Rosamund  her- 
self was  on  the  terrace,  bidding  all  her  guests  fare- 
well. She  clung  to  Dominey's  arm  when  at  last  they 
turned  back  into  the  empty  hall. 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION        261 

"  What  dear  people  they  were,  Everard !  "  she  ex- 
claimed. "  I  only  wish  that  I  had  seen  more  of  them. 
The  Duchess  was  perfectly  charming  to  me,  and  I 
never  knew  any  one  with  such  delightful  manners 
as  Prince  TernilofF.  Are  you  going  to  miss  them 
very  much,  dear?  " 

"  Not  a  bit,"  he  answered.  "  I  think  I  shall  take 
a  gun  now  and  stroll  down  the  meadows  and  across 
the  rough  ground.  Will  you  come  with  me,  or  will 
you  put  on  one  of  your  prettj'  gowns  and  entertain 
me  downstairs  at  luncheon.''  It  is  a  very  long  time 
since  we  had  a  meal  alone  together." 

She  shook  her  head  a  little  sadly. 

"  We  never  have  had,"  she  answered.  "  You  know 
that,  Everard,  and,  alas !  I  know  it.  But  we  are 
going  on  pretending,  aren't  we?  " 

He  raised  her  fingers  to  his  lips  and  kissed  them. 

"  You  shall  pretend  all  that  you  like,  dear  Rosa- 
mund," he  promised,  "  and  I  will  be  the  shadow  of 
your  desires.  No  !  —  No  tears  !  "  he  added  quickly, 
as  she  turned  away.  "  Remember  there  is  nothing 
but  happiness  for  3'ou  now.  Whoever  I  am  or  am 
not,  that  is  my  one  aim  in  life." 

She  clutched  at  his  hand  passionately,  and  sud- 
denly, as  though  finding  it  insufficient,  twined  her 
arms  around  his  neck  and  kissed  him. 

"  Let  me  come  with  you,"  she  begged.  "  I  can't 
bear  to  let  you  go.  I'll  be  very  quiet.  Will  you 
wait  ten  minutes  for  me?  " 

"  Of  course,"  he  answered. 

He  strolled  down  towards  the  gun  room,  stood  by 
the  fire  for  a  moment,  and  then  wandered  out  into 


262        THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

the  courtyard,  where  Middleton  and  a  couple  of  beat- 
ers were  waitmg  for  him  with  the  dogs.  He  had 
scarcely  taken  a  step  towards  them,  however,  when 
he  stopped  short.  To  his  amazement  Seaman  was 
there,  standing  a  little  on  one  side,  with  his  eyes 
fixed  upon  the  windows  of  the  servants'  quarters. 

"  Hullo,  my  friend !  "  he  exclaimed.  "  Why,  I 
thought  you  went  by  the  early  train  from  Thursford 
Station?" 

"  Missed  it  by  two  minutes,"  Seaman  replied  with 
a  glance  towards  the  beaters.  "  I  knew  all  the  cars 
were  full  for  the  eleven  o'clock,  so  I  thought  I'd  wait 
tiU  the  afternoon." 

"  And  where  have  you  been  to  for  the  last  few 
hours,  then .''  " 

Seaman  had  reached  his  side  now  and  was  out  of 
earshot  of  the  others. 

"  Trying  to  solve  the  mystery  of  Johann  Wolff's 
sudden  departure  last  night.  Come  and  walk  down 
the  avenue  with  me  a  little  way." 

"  A  very  short  distance,  then.  I  am  expecting 
Lady  Dominey." 

They  passed  through  the  thin  iron  gates  and  paced 
along  one  of  the  back  entrances  to  the  Hall. 

"  Do  not  tliink  me  indiscreet,"  Seaman  began.  "  I 
returned  without  the  knowledge  of  any  one,  and  I 
kept  out  of  the  way  until  they  had  all  gone.  It  is 
what  I  told  3^ou  before.  Things  which  I  do  not  un- 
derstand depress  me,  and  behold  !  I  have  found  proof 
this  morning  of  a  further  significance  in  Wolff's  sud- 
den departure." 

*'  Proceed,"  Dominey  begged. 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION        263 

"  I  learned  this  morning,  entirely  by  accident,  that 
Mr.  Pelham's  servant  was  either  mistaken  or  wil- 
fully deceived  me.  Wolff  did  not  accompany  your 
butler  to  the  station." 

"  And  how  did  you  find  that  out  .'*  "  Dominey  de- 
manded. 

"  It  is  immaterial !  What  is  material  is  that  there 
is  a  sort  of  conspiracy  amongst  'the  servants  here 
to  conceal  the  manner  of  his  leaving.  Do  not  in- 
terrupt me,  I  beg !  Early  this  morning  there  was  a 
fresh  fall  of  snow  which  has  now  disappeared.  Out- 
side the  window  of  the  room  which  I  found  locked 
were  the  marks  of  footsteps  and  the  tracks  of  a 
small  car." 

"  And  what  do  you  gather  from  all  this .''  "  Dom- 
iney- asked. 

"  I  gather  that  AVolff  must  have  had  friends  in  the 
neighbourhood,"  Seaman  replied,  "  or  else  — " 

"WeU.^" 

"  My  last  supposition  sounds  absurd,"  Seaman 
confessed,  "  but  the  whole  matter  is  so  incomprehen- 
sible that  I  was  going  to  say  —  or  else  he  was  forcibly 
removed." 

Dominey  laughed  softly. 

"  Wolff  would  scarcely  have  been  an  easy  man 
to  abduct,  would  he,"  he  remarked,  "  even  if  we 
could  hit  upon  any  plausible  reason  for  such  a  thing! 
As  a  matter  of  fact.  Seaman,"  he  concluded,  turn- 
ing on  his  heel  a  little  abruptly  as  he  saw  Rosamund 
standing  in  the  avenue,  "  I  cannot  bring  myself  to 
treat  this  Johann  Wolff  business  seriously.  Granted 
that  the  man  was  a  spy,  well,  let  him  get  on  with  it. 


264        THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

We  are  doing  our  job  here  in  the  most  perfect  and 
praiseworthy  fashion.  We  neither  of  us  have  the 
ghost  of  a  secret  to  hide  from  his  employers." 

"  In  a  sense  that  is  true,"  Seaman  admitted. 

"Well,  then,  cheer  up,"  Dominey  enjoined. 
"  Take  a  little  walk  with  us,  and  we  will  see  whether 
Parkins  cannot  find  us  a  bottle  of  that  old  Bur- 
gundy for  lunch.     How  does  that  sound,  eh?  " 

"  If  you  will  excuse  me  from  taking  the  walk," 
Seaman  begged,  "  I  would  like  to  remain  here  until 
your  return." 

"  You  are  more  likely  to  do  harm,"  Dominey  re- 
minded him,  "  and  set  the  servants  talking,  if  you 
show  too  much  interest  in  this  man's  disappearance." 

"  I  shall  be  careful,"  Seaman  promised,  "  but  there 
are  certain  things  which  I  cannot  help.  I  work  al- 
ways from  instinct,  and  my  instinct  is  never  wrong. 
I  will  ask  no  more  questions  of  your  servants,  but  I 
know  that  there  is  something  mysterious  about  the 
sudden  departure  of  Johann  Wolff." 

Dominey  and  Rosamund  returned  about  one  o'clock 
to  find  only  a  note  from  Seaman,  which  the  former 
tore  open  as  his  companion  stood  warming  her  feet 
in  front  of  the  fire.     There  were  only  a  few  lines : 

"  I  am  following  an  idea.  It  takes  me  to  London. 
Let  us  meet  there  within  a  few  days. 

"  S." 

"  Has  he  really  gone.^  "  Rosamund  asked. 
"  Back  to  London." 

She  laughed  happily.  "  Then  we  shall  lunch  a 
deua:  after  all !     Delightful  I     I  have  my  wish  !  " 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION        265 

There  was  a  sudden  glow  in  Dominey's  face,  a  glow 
which  was  instantly  suppressed. 

"  Shall  I  ever  have  mine?  "  he  asked,  with  a  queer 
little  break  in  his  voice. 


CHAPTER  XXV 

TernilofF  and  Dominey,  one  morning  about  six 
months  later,  lounged  underneath  a  great  elm  tree  at 
Ranelagh,  having  iced  drinks  after  a  round  of  golf. 
Several  millions  of  perspiring  Englishmen  were  at 
the  same  moment  studying  with  dazed  wonder  the 
headlines  in  the  midday  papers. 

"  I  suppose,"  the  Ambassador  remarked,  as  he 
leaned  back  in  his  chair  with  an  air  of  lazy  content, 
*'  that  I  am  being  accused  of  fiddling  while  Rome 
burns." 

"  Every  one  has  certainly  not  your  confidence  in 
the  situation,"  Domine}^  rejoined  calmly, 

"  There  is  no  one  else  who  knows  quite  so  much," 
TernilofF  reminded  him. 

Dominey  sipped  his  drink  for  a  moment  or  two  in 
silence. 

"  Have  you  the  latest  news  of  the  Russian  mobi- 
lisation.'* "  he  asked  "  They  had  some  startling  fig- 
ures in  the  city  this  morning." 

The  Prince  waved  his  hand. 

"  My  faith  is  not  founded  on  these  extraneous  in- 
cidents," he  replied.  "  If  Russia  mobilises,  it  is  for 
defence.  No  nation  in  the  world  would  dream  of 
attacking  Germany,  nor  has  Germany  the  slightest 
intention     of     imperilling    her     coming     supremacy 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION        267 

amongst  the  nations  by  such  crude  methods  as  mili- 
tar}'  enterprise.  Servia  must  be  punished,  naturally, 
but  to  that,  in  principle,  every  nation  in  Europe  is 
agreed.  We  shall  not  permit  Austria  to  overstep 
the  mark." 

"  You  are  at  least  consistent,  Prince,"  Dominey 
remarked. 

Terniloff  smiled. 

"  That  is  because  I  have  been  taken  behind  the 
scenes,"  he  said.  "  I  have  been  shown,  as  is  the 
privilege  of  ambassadors,  the  mind  of  our  rulers. 
You,  my  friend,"  he  went  on,  "  spent  your  youth 
amongst  the  military  faction.  You  think  that  you 
are  the  most  important  people  in  Germany.  Well, 
you  are  not.  The  Kaiser  has  willed  it  otherwise. — 
By-the-by,  I  had  yesterday  a  most  extraordinary 
cable  from  Stephanie." 

Dominey  ceased  swinging  his  putter  carelessly 
over  the  head  of  a  daisy  and  turned  his  head  to  listen. 

"  Is  she  on  the  wa}'  home  ?  " 

"  She  is  due  in  Southampton  at  any  moment  now. 
She  wants  to  know  where  she  can  see  me  immediately 
upon  her  arrival,  as  she  has  information  of  the  ut- 
most importance  to  give  me." 

"  Did  she  ever  tell  you  the  reason  for  her  journey 
to  Africa.?" 

"  She  was  most  mysterious  about  it.  If  such  an 
idea  had  had  any  logical  outcome,  I  should  have 
surmised  that  she  was  going  there  to  seek  information 
as  to  your  past." 

"  She  gave  Seaman  the  same  idea,"  Dominey  ob- 
served.    "  I  scarcely  see  what  she  has  to  gain.      In 


268        THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

Africa,  as  a  matter  of  fact,"  he  went  on,  "  my  life 
would  bear  the  strictest  investigation." 

"  The  whole  affair  is  singularly  foolish,"  the  Prince 
declared.  "  Still,  I  am  not  sure  that  you  have  been 
altogether  wise.  Even  accepting  your  position,  I 
see  no  reason  why  you  should  not  have  obeyed  the 
Kaiser's  behest.  My  experience  of  your  Society 
here  is  that  love  affairs  between  men  and  women 
moving  in  the  same  circles  are  not  uncommon." 

"  That,"  Dominey  urged,  "  is  when  they  are  all 
tarred  with  the  same  brush.  jNIy  behaviour  towards 
Lady  Dominey  has  been  culpable  enough  as  it  is. 
To  have  placed  her  in  the  position  of  a  neglected 
wife  would  have  been  indefensible.  Further,  it  might 
have  affected  the  position  which  it  is  in  the  interests 
of  my  work  that  I  should  maintain  here." 

"An  old  subject,"  the  Ambassador  sighed,  "best 
not  rediscussed.     Behold,  our  womenkind !  " 

Rosamund  and  the  Princess  had  issued  from  the 
house,  and  the  two  men  hastened  to  meet  them.  The 
latter  looked  charming,  exquisitely  gowned,  and 
stately  in  appearance.  By  her  side  Rosamund, 
dressed  with  the  same  success  but  in  younger  fashion, 
seemed  almost  like  a  child.  They  passed  into  the 
luncheon  room,  crowded  with  many  little  parties  of 
distinguished  and  interesting  people,  brilliant  with 
the  red  livery  of  the  waiters,  the  profusion  of  flowers 
—  all  that  nameless  elegance  which  had  made  the 
place  Society's  most  popular  rendezvous.  The 
women,  as  they  settled  into  their  places,  asked  a 
question  which  was  on  the  lips  of  a  great  many  Eng- 
lish people  that  day. 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION        269 

"  Is  there  any  news  ?  " 

TerniloflP  perhaps  felt  that  he  was  the  cynosure 
of  many  eager  and  anxious  eyes.  He  smiled  light- 
heartedly  as  he  answered: 

"  None.  If  there  were,  I  am  convinced  that  it 
would  be  good.  I  have  been  allowed  to  play  out 
my  titanic  struggle  against  Sir  Everard  without  in- 
terruption." 

"  I  suppose  the  next  important  question  to  whether 
it  is  to  be  peace  or  war  is,  how  did  you  play.''  "  the 
Princess  asked. 

"  I  surpassed  myself,"  her  husband  replied,  "  but 
of  course  no  ordinary  human  golfer  is  of  any  ac- 
count against  Domine}'.  He  plaj^s  far  too  well  for 
any  self-respecting  Ger  — " 

The  Ambassador  broke  off  and  paused  while  he 
helped  himself  to  mayonnaise. 

"  For  any  self-respecting  German  to  play 
against,"  he  concluded. 

Luncheon  was  a  very  pleasant  meal,  and  a  good 
many  people  noticed  the  vivacity  of  the  beautiful 
Lady  Dominey  whose  picture  was  beginning  to  appear 
in  the  illustrated  papers.  Afterwards  they  drank 
coffee  and  sipped  liqueurs  under  a  great  elm  tree  on 
the  lawn,  listening  to  the  music  and  congratulating 
themselves  upon  having  made  their  escape  from  Lon- 
don. In  the  ever-shifting  panorama  of  gaily-dressed 
women  and  flannel-clad  men,  the  monotony-  of  which 
was  varied  here  and  there  by  the  passing  of  a  di- 
plomatist or  a  Frenchman,  scrupulously  attired  in 
morning  clothes,  were  many  familiar  faces.  Caro- 
line and  a  little  group  of  friends  waved  to  them  from 


270        THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

the  terrace.  Eddy  Pelham,  in  immaculate  white,  and 
a  long  tennis  coat  with  dark  blue  edgings,  paused  to 
speak  to  them  on  liis  way  to  the  courts. 

"  How  is  the  motor  business,  Eddy  ?  "  Dominey 
asked,  with  a  twinkle  in  his  eyes. 

"  So,  so !  I'm  not  quite  so  keen  as  I  was.  To 
tell  you  the  truth,"  the  young  man  confided,  glanc- 
ing around  and  lowering  his  voice  so  that  no  one 
should  share  the  momentous  information,  "  I  was 
lucky  enough  to  pick  up  a  small  share  in  Jere 
Moore's  racing  stable  at  Newmarket,  the  other  day. 
I  fancy  I  know  a  little  more  about  gee-gees  than  I 
do  about  the  inside  of  motors,  what?  " 

"  I  should  think  very  possibly  that  you  are  right," 
Dominey  assented,  as  the  young  man  passed  on  with 
a  farewell  salute. 

Terniloff  looked  after  him  curiously. 

"  It  is  the  type  of  young  man,  that,"  he  declared, 
"  which  we  cannot  understand.  What  would  happen 
to  him,  in  the  event  of  a  war.?  —  In  the  event  of  his 
being  called  upon,  say,  either  to  fight  or  do  some 
work  of  national  importance  for  his  country.''  " 

"  I  expect  he  would  do  it,"  Dominey  replied.  "  He 
would  do  it  pluckily,  whole-heartedly  and  badly. 
He  is  a  type  of  the  upper-class  young  Englishman, 
over-sanguine  and  entirely  undisciplined.  They  ex- 
pect, and  their  country  expects  for  them,  that  in  the 
case  of  emergency  pluck  would  take  the  place  of 
training." 

The  Right  Honourable  Gerald  Watson  stood  upon 
the  steps  talking  to  the  wife  of  the  Italian  Ambas- 
sador.     She  left  him  presently,  and  he  came  strolling 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION        271 

down  the  lawn  with  his  hands  behind  his  back  and  his 
eyes  seeming  to  see  out  past  the  golf  links. 

"  There  goes  a  man,"  TernilofF  murmured,  "  whom 
lately  I  have  found  changed.  When  I  first  came 
liere  he  met  me  quite  openly.  I  believe,  even  now, 
he  is  sincerel}'  desirous  of  peace  and  amicable  rela- 
tions between  our  two  countries,  and  yet  something 
has  fallen  between  us.  I  cannot  tell  what  it  is.  I 
cannot  tell  even  of  what  nature  it  is,  but  I  have 
an  instinct  for  people's  attitude  towards  me,  and 
the  English  are  the  worst  race  in  the  world  at  hid- 
ing their  feelings.  Has  ]Mr.  Watson,  I  wonder,  come 
under  the  spell  of  3'our  connection,  the  Duke  of 
Worcester?  He  seemed  so  friendly  with  both  of  us 
down  in  Norfolk." 

Their  womenkind  left  them  at  that  moment  to  talk 
to  some  acquaintances  seated  a  short  distance  away. 
Mr.  Watson,  passing  within  a  few  yards  of  them,  was 
brought  to  a  standstill  by  Domine^-'s  greeting. 
They  talked  for  a  moment  or  two  upon  idle  subjects. 

"Your  news,  I  trust,  continues  favourable.''"  the 
Ambassador  remarked,  observing  the  etiquette  which 
required  him  to  be  the  first  to  leave  the  realms  of 
ordinary  conversation. 

"  It  is  a  little  negative  in  quality,"  the  other  an- 
swered, after  a  moment's  hesitation.  "  I  am  sum- 
moned to  Downing  Street  again  at  six  o'clock." 

"  I  have  already  confided  the  result  of  my  morn- 
ing despatches  to  the  Prime  Minister,"  Terniloff  ob- 
served. 

"  I  went  through  them  before  I  came  down  here," 
was  the  somewhat  doubtful  reply. 


272        THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

"  You  will  have  appreciated,  I  hope,  their  gen- 
uinely pacific  tone?  "  TernilofF  asked  anxiously. 

His  interlocutor  bowed  and  then  drew  himself  up. 
It  was  obvious  that  the  strain  of  the  last  few  days 
was  telling  upon  him.  There  were  lines  about  his 
mouth,  and  his  eyes  spoke  of  sleepless  nights. 

"  Words  are  idle  things  to  deal  with  at  a  time  like 
this,"  he  said.  "  One  thing,  however,  I  will  venture 
to  say  to  you,  Prince,  here  and  under  these  circum- 
stances. There  will  be  no  war  unless  it  be  the  will 
of  your  country." 

TernilofF  was  for  a  moment  unusually  pale.  It 
was  an  episode  of  unrecorded  history.  He  rose  to 
his  feet  and  raised  his  hat. 

"  There  will  be  no  war,"  he  said  solemnly. 

The  Cabinet  Minister  passed  on  with  a  lighter  step. 
Dominey,  more  clearly  than  ever  before,  understood 
the  subtle  policy  which  had  chosen  for  his  great  posi- 
tion a  man  as  chivalrous  and  faithful  and  yet  as 
simple-minded  as  Terniloff.  He  looked  after  the  re- 
treating figure  of  the  Cabinet  ^Minister  with  a  slight 
smile  at  the  corner  of  his  lips. 

"  In  a  time  like  this,"  he  remarked  significantly, 
"  one  begins  to  understand  why  one  of  our  great 
writers  —  was  it  Bernhardi,  I  wonder  .-^  —  has  writ- 
ten that  no  island  could  ever  breed  a  race  of  di- 
plomatists." 

"  The  seas  which  engirdle  this  island,"  the  Am- 
bassador said  thoughtfully,  "  have  brought  to  Eng- 
land great  weal,  as  they  may  bring  to  her  much  woe. 
The  too-nimble  brain  of  the  diplomat  has  its  parallel 
of  insincerity  in  the  people  whose  interests  he  seems 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION        273 

to  guard.  I  believe  in  the  honesty  of  the  English 
politicians.  I  have  placed  that  belief  on  record  in 
the  small  volume  of  memoirs  which  I  shall  pres- 
ently entrust  to  you.  But  we  talk  too  seriously  for 
a  summer  afternoon.  Let  us  illustrate  to  the  world 
our  opinion  of  the  political  situation  and  play  an- 
other nine  holes  at  golf." 

Dominey  rose  willingly  to  his  feet,  and  the  two 
men  strolled  away  towards  the  first  tee. 

"  By  the  by,"  Terniloff  asked,  "  what  of  our  cheer- 
ful little  friend  Seaman .f"  He  ought  to  be  busy  just 
now." 

"  Curiously  enough,  he  is  returning  from  Ger- 
many to-night,"  Dominey  announced.  "  I  expect 
him  at  Berkeley  Square.  He  is  coming  direct  to 
me." 


CHAPTER  XXVI 

These  were  days,  to  all  dwellers  in  London,  of 
vivid  impressions,  of  poignant  memories,  reasserting 
themselves  afterwards  with  a  curious  sense  of  un- 
reality, as  though  belonging  to  another  set  of  days 
and  another  world.  Dominey  long  remembered  his 
dinner  that  evening  in  the  sombre,  handsomely  fur- 
nished dining-room  of  his  town  house  in  Berkeley 
Square.  Although  it  lacked  the  splendid  propor- 
tions of  the  banqueting  hall  at  Dominey,  it  was  still 
a  fine  apartment,  furnished  in  the  Georgian  period, 
with  some  notable  pictures  upon  the  walls,  and  with 
a  wonderful  ceiling  and  fireplace.  Dominey  and 
Rosamund  dined  alone,  and  though  the  table  had  been 
reduced  to  its  smallest  proportions,  the  space  be- 
tween them  was  yet  considerable.  As  soon  as  Par- 
kins had  gravely  put  the  port  upon  the  table,  Rosa- 
mund rose  to  her  feet  and,  instead  of  leaving  the 
room,  pointed  for  the  servant  to  place  a  chair  for 
her  by  Dominey's  side. 

"  I  shall  be  like  your  men  friends,  Everard,"  she 
declared,  "  when  the  ladies  have  left,  and  draw  up 
to  your  side.  Now  what  do  we  do.^  Tell  stories.'' 
I  promise  you  that  I  will  be  a  wonderful  listener." 

"  First  of  all  you  drink  half  a  glass  of  this  port," 
he  declared,  filling  her  glass,  "  then  you  peel  me  one 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION        275 

of  those  peaches,  and  we  divide  it.  After  which  we 
listen  for  a  ring  at  the  bell.  To-night  I  expect  a 
visitor." 

"A  visitor?" 

"  Not  a  social  one,"  he  assured  her.  "  A  matter 
of  business  which  I  fear  will  take  me  from  you  for 
the  rest  of  the  evening.  So  let  us  make  the  most  of 
the  time  until  he  comes." 

She  commenced  her  task  with  the  peach,  talking 
to  him  all  the  time  a  little  gravely,  a  sweet  and  pic- 
turesque picture  of  a  graceful  and  very  desirable 
woman,  her  delicate  shape  and  artistic  fragility  more 
than  ever  accentuated  by  the  sombreness  of  the  back- 
ground. 

"  Do  you  know,  Everard,"  she  said,  "  I  am  so 
happy  in  London  here  with  you,  and  I  feel  all  the 
time  so  strong  and  well.  I  can  read  and  understand 
the  books  which  were  a  maze  of  print  to  me  before. 
I  can  see  the  things  in  the  pictures,  and  feel  the  thrill 
of  the  music,  which  seemed  to  come  to  me,  somehow, 
before,  all  dislocated  and  discordant.  You  under- 
stand, dear.''  " 

"  Of  course,"  he  answered  gravely. 

"  I  do  not  wonder,"  she  went  on,  "  that  Doctor 
Harrison  is  proud  of  me  for  a  patient,  but  there  are 
many  times  when  I  feel  a  dull  pain  in  my  heart,  be- 
cause I  know  that,  whatever  he  or  anybody  else 
might  say,  I  am  not  quite  cured." 

"  Rosamund  dear,"  he  protested. 

"  Ah,  but  don't  interrupt,"  she  insisted,  deposit- 
ing his  share  of  the  peach  upon  his  plate.  "  How 
can  I  be  cured  when  all  the  time  there  is  the  problem 


276        THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

of  you,  the  problem  which  I  am  just  as  far  off 
solving  as  ever  I  was?  Often  I  find  myself  compar- 
ing you  with  the  Everard  whom  I  married." 

"  Do  I  fail  so  often  to  come  up  to  his  standard?  " 
he  asked. 

"  You  never  fail,"  she  answered,  looking  at  him 
with  brimming  eyes.  "  Of  course,  he  was  very  much 
more  affectionate,"  she  went  on,  after  a  moment's 
pause.  "  His  kisses  were  not  like  yours.  And  he 
was  far  fonder  of  having  me  with  him.  Then,  on 
the  other  hand,  often  when  I  wanted  him  he  was 
not  there,  he  did  wild  things,  mad  things ;  he  seemed 
to  forget  me  altogether.  It  was  that,"  she  went  on, 
"  that  was  so  terrible.  It  was  that  which  made  me 
so  nervous.  I  think  that  I  should  even  have  been 
able  to  stand  those  awful  moments  when  he  came  back 
to  me,  covered  with  blood  and  reeling,  if  it  had  not 
been  that  I  was  already  almost  a  wreck.  You  know, 
he  killed  Roger  Unthank  that  night.  That  is  why 
he  was  never  able  to  come  back." 

"  Why  do  you  talk  of  these  things  to-night,  Rosa- 
mund," Dominey  begged. 

"  I  must,  dear,"  she  insisted,  laying  her  fingers 
upon  his  hand  and  looking  at  him  curiously.  "  I 
must,  even  though  I  see  how  they  distress  you.  It 
is  wonderful  that  you  should  mind  so  much,  Everard, 
but  you  do,  and  I  love  you  for  it." 

"  Mind?  "  he  groaned.     "  Mind !  " 

"  You  are  so  like  him  and  yet  so  different,"  she 
went  on  meditatively.  "  You  drink  so  little  wine,  you 
are  always  so  self-controlled,  so  serious.  You  live 
as  though  you  had  a  life  around  you  of  which  others 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION        277 

knew  nothing.  Tlic  Everard  I  remember  would  never 
have  ffared  about  being  a  magistrate  or  going  into 
Parliament.  He  would  never  have  had  ambassadors 
for  his  friends.  He  would  have  spent  his  time  racing 
or  yachting,  hunting  or  shooting,  as  the  fancy  took 
him.     And  yet  — " 

"  And  yet  what  ?  "  Dominey  asked,  a  little 
hoarsely. 

"  I  think  he  loved  me  better  than  you,"  she  said 
very  sadly. 

"  Wliy .?  "  he  demanded. 

"  I  cannot  tell  you,"  she  answered,  with  her  eyes 
upon  her  plate,  "  but  I  think  that  he  did." 

Dominey  walked  suddenly  to  the  window  and 
leaned  out.  There  were  drops  of  moisture  upon  his 
forehead,  he  felt  the  fierce  need  of  air.  When  he 
came  back  she  was  still  sitting  there,  still  looking 
down. 

"  I  have  spoken  to  Doctor  Harrison  about  it," 
she  went  on,  her  voice  scarcely  audible.  "  He  told 
me  that  you  probabh'  loved  more  than  you  dcared 
to  show,  because  some  day  the  real  Everard  might 
come  back." 

"  That  is  quite  true,"  he  reminded  her  softly. 
"  He  may  come  back  at  any  moment." 

She  gripped  his  hand,  her  voice  shook  with  pas- 
sion. She  leaned  towards  him,  her  other  arm  stole 
around  his  neck. 

"  But  I  don't  want  him  to  come  back !  "  she  cried. 
"  I  want  you  !  " 

Dominey  sat  for  a  moment  motionless,  like  a  figure 
of    stone.     Through    the    wide-flung,    bUnd-shielded 


278        THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

windows  came  the  raucous  cry  of  a  newsboy,  break- 
ing the  stillness  of  the  summer  evening.  And  then 
another  and  sharper  interruption, —  the  stopping  of 
a  taxicab  outside,  the  firm,  insistent  ringing  of  the 
front  doorbell.  Recollection  came  to  Dominey,  and 
a  great  strength.  The  fire  which  had  leaped  up 
within  him  was  thrust  back.  His  response  to  her 
wave  of  passion  was  infinitely  tender. 

"  Dear  Rosamund,"  he  said,  "  that  front  doorbell 
summons  me  to  rather  an  important  interview.  Will 
you  please  trust  in  me  a  little  while  longer?  Believe 
me,  I  am  not  in  any  way  cold.  I  am  not  indifferent. 
There  is  something  which  you  will  have  to  be  told, — 
something  with  which  I  never  reckoned,  something 
which  is  beginning  to  weigh  upon  me  night  and  day. 
Trust  me,  Rosamund,  and  wait !  " 

She  sank  back  into  her  chair  with  a  piquant  and 
yet  pathetic  little  grimace. 

"  You  tell  me  always  to  wait,"  she  complained. 
"  I  will  be  patient,  but  you  shall  tell  me  this.  You 
are  so  kind  to  me.  You  make  or  mar  my  life.  You 
must  care  a  little.''     Please.'^  " 

He  was  standing  up  now.  He  kissed  her  hands 
fondly.     His  voice  had  all  the  old  ring  in  it. 

"  More  than  for  any  woman  on  earth,  dear  Rosa- 
mund !  " 

Seaman,  in  a  light  grey  suit,  a  panama,  and  a 
white  beflowered  tie,  had  lost  something  of  the  placid 
urbanity  of  a  few  months  ago.  He  was  hot  and 
tired  with  travel.  There  were  new  lines  in  his  face 
and  a  queer  expression   of  anxiety   about  his   eyes, 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION        279 

at  the  corners  of  which  little  wrinkles  had  begun 
to  appear.  He  responded  to  Dominey's  welcome 
with  a  fervour  which  was  almost  feverish,  scrutinised 
him  closely,  as  though  expecting  to  find  some  change, 
and  finally  sank  into  an  easy-chair  with  a  little  ges- 
ture of  relief.  He  had  been  carrying  a  small,  brown 
despatch  case,  which  he  laid  on  the  carpet  by  his  side. 

"You  have  news?"  Dominey  asked. 

"  Yes,"  was  the  momentous  reply,  "  I  have  news." 

Dominey  rang  the  bell.  He  had  already  surmised, 
from  the  dressing-case  and  coats  in  the  hall,  that  his 
visitor  had  come  direct  from  the  station. 

"  What  will  you  have?  "  he  enquired. 

"  A  bottle  of  hock  with  seltzer  water,  and  ice  if 
you  have  it,"  Seaman  replied.  "  Also  a  plate  of 
cold  meat,  but  it  must  be  served  here.  And  after- 
wards the  biggest  cigar  you  have.  I  have  indeed 
news,  news  disturbing,  news  magnificent,  news  as- 
tounding." 

Dominey  gave  some  orders  to  the  servant  who  an- 
swered his  summons.  For  a  few  moments  they  spoke 
trivialities  of  the  journey.  When  everything  was 
served,  however,  and  the  door  closed.  Seaman  could 
wait  no  longer.  His  appetite,  his  thirst,  his  speech, 
seemed  all  stimulated  to  swift  action. 

"  We  are  of  the  same  temperament,"  he  said. 
"  That  I  know.  W^e  will  speak  first  of  what  is  more 
than  disturbing — a  little  terrifying.  The  mystery 
of  Johann  WolfF  has  been  solved." 

"  The  man  who  came  to  us  with  messages  from 
Schmidt  in  South  Africa?  "  Dominey  asked.  "  I  had 
almost  forgotten  about  him." 


28o        THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

"  The  same.  What  was  at  the  back  of  his  visit 
to  us  that  night  I  cannot  even  now  imagine.  Neither 
is  it  clear  why  he  held  aloof  from  me,  who  am  his 
superior  in  practically  the  same  service.  There  we 
are,  from  the  commencement,  confronted  with  a  very 
singular  happening,  but  scarcely  so  singular  as  the 
denouement.  WolfF  vanished  from  your  house  that 
night  into  an  English  fortress." 

"  It  seems  incredible,"  Dominey  declared  bluntly. 

"  It  is  nevertheless  true,"  Seaman  insisted.  "  No 
member  of  our  service  is  allowed  to  remain  more  than 
one  month  without  communicating  his  existence  and 
whereabouts  to  headquarters.  No  word  has  been  re- 
ceived from  Wolff  since  that  night  in  January.  On 
the  other  hand,  indirect  information  has  reached  us 
that  he  is  in  durance  over  here." 

"  But  such  a  thing  is  against  the  law,  unheard 
of,"  Dominey  protested.  "  No  country  can  keep  the 
citizen  of  another  country  in  prison  without  formu- 
lating a  definite  charge  or  bringing  him  up  for  trial." 

Seaman  smiled  grimly. 

"  That's  all  very  well  in  any  ordinary  case,"  he 
said.  "  Wolff  has  been  a  marked  man  for  years, 
though.  Wilhelmstrasse  would  soon  make  fuss 
enough,  if  it  were  of  any  use,  but  it  would  not  be. 
There  are  one  or  two  Englishmen  in  German  prisons 
at  the  present  moment,  concerning  whose  welfare  the 
English  Foreign  Office  has  not  even  thought  it  worth 
while  to  enquire.  What  troubles  me  more  than  the 
actual  fact  of  Wolff's  disappearance  is  the  mystery 
of  his  visit  to  you  and  his  apprehension  practically 
on  the  spot." 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION        281 

"  'Hiey  must  have  tracked  him  down  there,"  Dom- 
iney  remarked. 

"  Yes,  but  they  couldn't  thrust  a  pair  of  tongs 
into  your  butler's  sitting-room,  extract  Johann  Wolff, 
and  set  him  down  inside  Norwich  Castle  or  whatever 
prison  he  may  be  in,"  Seaman  objected.  "  How- 
ever, the  most  disquieting  feature  about  Wolff  is 
that  it  introduces  something  we  don't  understand. 
For  the  rest,  we  have  many  men  as  good,  and  better, 
and  the  time  for  their  utility  is  past.  You  are  our 
great  hope  now,  Dominey." 

"It  is  to  be,  then.?" 

Seaman  took  a  long  and  ecstatic  draught  of  his 
hock  and  seltzer. 

"  It  is  to  be,"  he  declared  solemnly.  "  There  was 
never  any  doubt  about  it.  If  Russia  ceases  to  mobi- 
lise to-morrow,  if  every  statesman  in  Servia  crawls 
to  Vienna  with  a  rope  around  his  neck,  the  result 
would  still  be  the  same.  The  word  has  gone  out. 
The  whole  of  Germany  is  like  a  vast  military  camp. 
It  comes  exacth^  twelve  months  before  the  final  day 
fixed  by  our  great  authorities,  but  the  opportunity  is 
too  great,  too  wonderful  for  hesitation.  By  the  end 
of  August  we  shall  be  in  Paris." 

"  You  bring  news  indeed !  "  Dominey  murmured, 
standing  for  a  moment  by  the  opened  window. 

"  I  have  been  received  with  favour  in  the  very 
loftiest  circles,"  Seaman  continued.  "  You  and  I 
both  stand  high  in  the  list  of  those  to  whom  great 
rewards  shall  come.  His  Majesty  approves  alto- 
gether of  your  reluctance  to  avail  yourself  of  his 
permission   to  wed   the  Princess  Eiderstrom.     '  Von 


282        THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

Ragastein  has  decided  well,'  he  declared.  '  These  are 
not  the  days  for  marriage  or  giving  in  marriage, 
these,  the  most  momentous  daj's  the  world  has  ever 
known,  the  days  when  an  empire  shall  spring  into 
being,  the  mightiest  since  the  Continents  fell  into 
shape  and  the  stars  looked  down  upon  this  present 
world.'  Those  are  the  words  of  the  All  Highest. 
In  his  eyes  the  greatest  of  all  attributes  is  singleness 
of  purpose.  You  followed  your  own  purpose,  con- 
trary to  my  advice,  contrary  to  TernilofF's.  You 
will  gain  by  it." 

Seaman  finished  his  meal  in  due  course,  and  the 
tray  was  removed.  Soon  the  two  men  were  alone 
again,  Seaman  puffing  out  dense  volumes  of  smoke, 
gripping  his  cigar  between  his  teeth,  brandishing  it 
sometimes  in  his  hand  to  give  effect  to  his  words. 
A  little  of  his  marvellous  caution  seemed  to  have  de- 
serted him.  For  the  first  time  ae  spoke  directly  to 
his  companion. 

"  Von  Ragastein,"  he  said,  "  it  is  a  great  country, 
ours.  It  is  a  wonderful  empire  we  shall  build.  To- 
night I  am  on  fire  with  the  mighty  things.  I  have 
a  list  of  instructions  for  you,  man}'  details.  They 
can  wait.  We  will  talk  of  our  future,  our  great  and 
glorious  destiny  as  the  mightiest  nation  who  has  ever 
earned  for  herself  the  right  to  govern  the  world. 
You  would  think  that  in  Germany  there  was  excite- 
ment. There  is  none.  The  task  of  every  one  is  al- 
lotted, their  work  made  clear  to  them.  Like  a  mighty 
piece  of  gigantic  machinery,  we  move  towards  war. 
Every  regiment  knows  its  station,  every  battery  com- 
mander knows  his  positions,  every  general  knows  his 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION        283 

exact  line  of  attack.  Rations,  clothing,  hospitals, 
every  unit  of  which  3^ou  can  think,  has  its  movements 
calculated  out  for  it  to  the  last  nicety." 

"And  the  final  result?"  Dominey  asked.  "Is 
that  also  calculated?  " 

Seaman,  with  trembling  fingers,  unlocked  the  little 
despatch  box  which  stood  by  his  side  and  took  from 
it  jealously  a  sheet  of  linen-backed  parchment. 

"  You,  my  friend,"  he  said,  "  are  one  of  the  first 
to  gaze  upon  this.  This  will  show  you  the  dream  of 
our  Kaiser.  This  will  show  3'ou  the  framework  of 
the  empire  that  is  to  be." 

He  laid  out  a  map  upon  the  table.  The  two  men 
bent  over  it.  It  was  a  map  of  Europe,  in  which  Eng- 
land, a  diminished  France,  Spain,  Portugal  and  Italy, 
were  painted  in  dark  blue.  For  the  rest,  the  whole 
of  the  space  included  between  two  lines,  one  from 
Hamburg  to  Athens,  the  other  from  Finland  to  the 
Black  Sea,  was  painted  a  deep  scarlet,  with  here  and 
there  portions  of  it  in  slightly  lighter  colouring. 
Seaman  laid  his  palm  upon  the  map. 

"  There  lies  our  future  Empire,"  he  said  solemnly 
and  impressively. 

"  Explain  it  to  me,"  Dominey  begged. 

"  Broadl}^  speaking,  everj^thing  between  those  two 
lines  belongs  to  the  new  German  Empire.  Poland, 
Courland,  Lithuania  and  the  Ukraine  will  possess  a 
certain  degree  of  autonomous  government,  which 
will  practicall}^  amount  to  nothing.  Asia  is  there 
at  our  feet.  No  longer  will  Great  Britain  control 
the  supplies  of  the  world.  Raw  materials  of  every 
description  will  be  ours.     Leather,  tallow,  wheat,  oil. 


284        THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

fats,  timber  —  they  are  all  there  for  us  to  draw  upon. 
And  for  wealth  —  India  and  China !  What  more 
would  you  have,  my  friend?  " 

"  You  take  my  breath  away.  But  what  about  Aus- 
tria? " 

Seaman's  grin  was  almost  sardonic. 

"  Austria,"  he  said,  "  must  already  feel  her  doom 
creeping  upon  her.  There  is  no  room  in  middle  Eu- 
rope for  two  empires,  and  the  House  of  Hapsburg 
must  fall  before  the  House  of  Hohenzollern.  Aus- 
tria, body  and  soul,  must  become  part  of  the  German 
Empire.  Then  further  down,  mark  you.  Roumania 
must  become  a  vassal  state  or  be  conquered.  Bul- 
garia is  already  ours.  Turke}',  with  Constantinople, 
is  pledged.  Greece  will  either  join  us  or  be  wiped 
out.  Servia  will  be  blotted  from  the  map ;  probably 
also  Montenegro.  Those  countries  which  are  painted 
in  fainter  red,  like  Turkey,  Bulgaria  and  Greece,  be- 
come vassal  states,  to  be  absorbed  one  by  one  as  op- 
portunity presents  itself." 

Domine3''s  finger  strayed  northward. 

"  Belgium,"  he  observed,  "  has  disappeared." 

"  Belgium  we  shall  occupy  and  enslave,"  Seaman 
replied.  "  Our  line  of  advance  into  France  lies  that 
way,  and  we  need  her  ports  to  dominate  the  Thames. 
Holland  and  the  Scandinavian  countries,  as  you  ob- 
serve, are  left  in  the  lighter  shade  of  red.  If  an 
opportunity  occurs,  Holland  and  Denmark  may  be 
incited  to  take  the  field  against  us.  If  they  do  so,  it 
means  absorption.  If  they  remain,  as  they  probably 
will,  scared  neutrals,  they  will  none  the  less  be  our 
vassal  states  when  the  last  gun  has  been  fired." 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION        285 

"  And  Norway  and  Sweden  ?  " 

Seaman  looked  down  at  the  map  and  smiled. 

"  Look  at  them,"  he  said.  "  They  lie  at  our 
merc3%  Norway  has  her  western  seaboard,  and  there 
might  always  be  the  question  of  British  aid,  so  far 
as  she  is  concerned.  But  Sweden  is  ours,  body  and 
soul.  ]More  than  any  other  of  these  vassal  states, 
it  is  our  master's  plan  to  bring  her  into  complete 
subjection.  We  need  her  lusty  manhood,  the  finest 
cannon  food  in  the  world,  for  later  wars,  if  indeed 
such  a  thing  should  be.  She  has  timber  and  min- 
erals which  we  also  need. —  But  there  —  it  is 
enough.  First  of  all  men  in  this  country,  my  friend, 
you,  Von  Ragastein,  have  gazed  upon  this  picture  of 
the  future." 

"  This  is  marvellously  conceived,"  Dominey  mut- 
tered, "  but  what  of  Russia  with  her  millions.''  How 
is  it  that  we  propose,  notwithstanding  her  countless 
millions  of  men,  to  help  ourselves  to  her  richest  prov- 
inces, to  drive  a  way  through  the  heart  of  her  em- 
pire.? " 

"  This,"  Seaman  replied,  "  is  where  genius  steps 
in.  Russia  has  been  ripe  for  a  revolution  any  time 
for  the  last  fifteen  years.  We  have  secret  agents  now 
in  every  city  and  country  place  and  throughout  the 
army.  We  shall  teach  Russia  how  to  make  herself 
a  free  country." 

Domine}'  shivered  a  little  with  an  almost  involun- 
tary repulsion.  For  the  second  time  that  almost 
satyr-like  grin  on  Seaman's  face  revolted  him. 

"  And  what  of  my  own  work .''  " 

Seaman  helped  himself  to  a  liqueur.     He  was,  as  a 


286        THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

rule,  a  moderate  man,  but  this  was  the  third  time  he 
had  replenished  his  glass  since  his  hasty  meal. 

"  My  brain  is  weary,  fi'iend,"  he  admitted,  pass- 
ing his  hand  over  his  forehead.  "  I  have  a  great  fa- 
tigue. The  thoughts  jump  about.  This  last  week 
has  been  one  of  fierce  excitements.  Ever^'thing,  al- 
most your  daily  life,  has  been  planned.  We  shall  go 
over  it  within  a  day  or  so.  Meanwhile,  remember 
this.  It  is  our  great  aim  to  keep  England  out  of 
the  war." 

"  Terniloff  is  right,  then,  after  all !  "  Dominey  ex- 
claimed. 

Seaman  laughed  scornfully. 

"  If  we  want  England  out  of  the  war,"  he  pointed 
out,  "  it  is  not  that  we  desire  her  friendship.  It  is 
that  we  may  crush  her  the  more  easily  when  Calais, 
Boulogne  and  Havre  are  in  our  hands.  That  will 
be  in  three  months'  time.  Then  perhaps  our  atti- 
tude towards  England  may  change  a  little !  Now 
I  go."  _ 

Dominey  folded  up  the  map  with  reluctance.  His 
companion  shook  his  head.  It  was  curious  that  he, 
too,  for  the  first  time  in  his  life  upon  the  same  day, 
addressed  his  host  differently. 

"  Baron  von  Ragastein,"  he  said,  "  there  are  six  of 
those  maps  in  existence.  That  one  is  for  you.  Lock 
it  away  and  guard  it  as  though  it  were  your  greatest 
treasure  on  earth,  but  when  you  are  alone,  bring  it 
out  and  study  it.  It  shall  be  your  inspiration,  it 
shall  lighten  your  moments  of  depression,  give  you 
courage  when  you  are  in  danger ;  it  shall  fill  your  mind 
with  pride  and  wonder.     It  is  yours." 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION        287 

Dominey  folded  it  carcfulh^  up,  crossed  the  room, 
unlocked  a  little  safe  and  deposited  it  therein. 

"  I  shall  guard  it,  according  to  your  behest,  as 
my  greatest  treasure,"  he  assured  his  departing 
guest,  with  a  fervour  which  surprised  even  himself. 


CHAPTER  XXVII 

There  was  something  dramatic,  in  the  most  lurid 
sense  of  the  word,  about  the  brief  telephone  message 
which  Dominey  received,  not  so  many  hours  later, 
from  Carlton  House  Terrace.  In  a  few  minutes  he 
was  moving  through  the  streets,  still  familiar  yet 
already  curiously  changed.  Men  and  women  were 
going  about  their  business  as  usual,  but  an  air  of 
stupefaction  was  everywhere  apparent.  Practically 
every  loiterer  was  studying  a  newspaper,  every 
chance  acquaintance  had  stopped  to  confer  with  his 
fellows.  War,  alternately  the  joke  and  bogey  of  the 
conversationalist,  stretched  her  grey  hands  over  the 
sunlit  city.  Even  the  lightest-hearted  felt  a  thrill  of 
apprehension  at  the  thought  of  the  horrors  that  were 
to  come.  In  a  day  or  two  all  this  was  to  be  changed. 
People  went  about  then  counting  the  Russian  mil- 
lions ;  the  steamroller  fetish  was  to  be  evolved.  The 
most  peaceful  stockbroker  or  shopkeeper,  who  had 
never  even  been  to  a  review  in  his  life,  could  make 
calculations  of  man  power  with  a  stump  of  pencil  on 
the  back  of  an  old  envelope,  which  would  convince 
the  greatest  pessimist  that  Germany  and  Austria  were 
outnumbered  by  at  least  three  to  one.  But  on  this 
particular  morning,  people  were  too  stunned  for  cal- 
culations. The  incredible  had  happened.  The  long- 
discussed  war  —  the  nightmare  of  the  nervous,  the 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION        289 

derision  of  the  optimist  —  had  actually  materialised. 
The  happy-go-lucky  years  of  peace  and  plenty  had 
suddenly  come  to  an  end.  Black  tragedy  leaned  over 
the  land. 

Dominey,  avoiding  acquaintances  as  far  as  pos- 
sible, his  own  mind  in  a  curious  turmoil,  passed  down 
St.  James's  Street  and  along  Pall  Mall  and  presented 
himself  at  Carlton  House  Terrace.  Externally,  the 
great  white  building,  with  its  rows  of  flower  boxes, 
showed  no  signs  of  undue  perturbation.  Inside,  how- 
ever, the  anteroom  was  crowded  with  callers,  and  it 
was  only  by  the  intervention  of  TernilofF's  private 
secretary,  who  was  awaiting  him,  that  Dominey  was 
able  to  reach  the  inner  sanctum  where  the  Ambassador 
was  busy  dictating  letters.  He  broke  off  immedi- 
ately his  visitor  was  announced  and  dismissed  every 
one,  including  his  secretaries.  Then  he  locked  the 
door. 

"  Von  Ragastein,"  he  groaned,  "  I  am  a  broken 
man !  " 

Dominey  grasped  his  hand  sympathetically.  Ter- 
niloff  seemed  to  have  aged  years  even  in  the  last  few 
hours. 

"  I  sent  for  you,"  he  continued,  "  to  say  farewell, 
to  say  farewell  and  to  make  a  confession.  You  were 
right,  and  I  was  wrong.  It  would  have  been  better 
if  I  had  remained  and  played  the  country  farmer  on 
my  estates.  I  was  never  shrewd  enough  to  see  until 
now  that  I  have  been  made  the  cat's-paw  of  the  very 
men  whose  policy  I  always  condemned." 

His  visitor  still  remained  silent.  There  was  so 
little  that  he  could  say. 


290        THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

"  I  have  worked  for  peace,"  TernilofF  went  on, 
"  believing  that  my  country  wanted  peace.  I  have 
worked  for  peace  with  honourable  men  who  were  just 
as  anxious  as  I  was  to  secure  it.  But  all  the  time 
those  for  whom  I  laboured  were  making  faces  behind 
my  back.  I  was  nothing  more  nor  less  than  their 
tool.  I  know  now  that  nothing  in  this  world  could 
have  hindered  what  is  coming." 

"  Every  one  will  at  least  realise,"  Dominey  re- 
minded him,  ""that  you  did  your  best  for  peace." 

"  That  is  one  reason  why  I  sent  for  you,"  was  the 
agitated  reply.  "  Not  long  ago  I  spoke  of  a  little 
volume,  a  diary  which  I  have  been  keeping  of  ni}' 
work  in  this  country.  I  promised  to  show  it  to  you. 
You  have  asked  me  for  it  several  times  lately.  I  am 
going  to  show  it  to  you  now.  It  is  written  up  to 
yesterday.  It  will  tell  you  of  all  my  efforts  and 
how  they  were  foiled.  It  is  an  absolutely  faithful 
narrative  of  my  work  here  and  the  English  response 
to  it." 

The  Prince  crossed  the  room,  unlocked  one  of  the 
smaller  safes,  which  stood  against  the  side  of  the 
wall,  withdrew  a  morocco-bound  volume  the  size  of 
a  small  portfolio,  and  returned  to  Dominey. 

"  I  beg  you,"  he  said  earnestly,  "  to  read  this  with 
the  utmost  care  and  to  await  my  instructions  with 
regard  to  it.  You  can  judge,  no  doubt,"  he  went 
on  a  little  bitterly,  "  why  I  give  it  into  your  keeping. 
Even  the  Embassy  here  is  not  free  from  our  own 
spies,  and  the  existence  of  these  memoirs  is  known. 
The  moment  I  reach  Germany,  their  fate  is  assured. 
I  am  a  German  and  a  patriot,  although  my  heart  is 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION        291 

bitter  against  those  who  are  bringing  this  blot  upon 
our  country.  For  that  reason,  these  memoirs  must 
be  kept  in  a  safe  place  until  I  see  a  good  use  for 
them." 

"  You  mean  if  the  governing  party  in  Germany 
should  change?  " 

"  Precisely !  They  would  then  form  at  once  my 
justification,  and  place  English  diplomacy  in  such  a 
light  before  the  saner  portion  of  my  fellow  countr}^- 
men  that  an  honourable  peace  might  be  rendered 
possible.  Study  them  carcfulh',  Von  Ragastein. 
Perhaps  even  your  own  allegiance  to  the  Party  you 
serve  may  waver  for  a  moment  as  you  read." 

"  I  serve  no  Party,"  Dominey  said  quietly,  "  only 
my  Country." 

TernilofF  sighed. 

"  Alas !  there  is  no  time  for  us  to  enter  into  one 
of  our  old  arguments  on  the  ethics  of  government.  I 
must  send  you  away,  Von  Ragastein.  You  have  a 
terrible  task  before  you.  I  am  bound  to  wish  3^ou 
Godspeed.  For  m3^sclf  I  shall  not  raise  my  head 
again  until  I  have  left  England." 

"  There  is  no  other  commission  ?  "  Dominey  asked. 
"  No  other  way  in  which  I  can  serve  you.''  " 

"  None,"  TernilofF  answered  sadly.  "  I  am  per- 
mitted to  suffer  no  inconveniences.  My  departure  is 
arranged  for  as  though  I  were  royalty.  Yet  be- 
lieve me,  my  friend,  every  act  of  courtesy  and  gener- 
osity which  I  receive  in  these  moments,  bites  into  my 
heart.     Farewell !  " 

Dominey  found  a  taxicab  in  Pall  Mall  and  drove 
back  to  Berkeley  Square.     He  found  Rosamund  with 


I 


292        THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

a  little  troop  of  dogs,  just  entering  the  gardens,  and 
crossed  to  her  side. 

"  Dear,"  he  asked,  taking  her  arm,  "  would  you 
mind  very  much  coming  down  to  Norfolk  for  a  few 
days?"  ^ 

"  With  you  ?  "  she  asked  quickly. 

"  Yes !  I  want  to  be  in  retreat  for  a  short  time. 
There  are  one  or  two  things  I  must  settle  before  I 
take  up  some  fresh  work." 

"  I  should  love  it,"  she  declared  enthusiastically. 
*'  London  is  getting  so  hot,  and  every  one  is  so  ex- 
cited." 

"  I  shall  order  the  touring  car  at  three  o'clock," 
Dominey  told  her.  "  We  shall  get  home  about  nine. 
Parkins  and  your  maid  can  go  down  by  train.  Does 
that  suit  you?  " 

"  Delightfully ! " 

He  took  her  arm  and  they  paced  slowly  along  the 
hot  walk. 

"  Rosamund  dear,"  he  said,  "  the  time  has  come 
which  many  people  have  been  dreading.  We  are  at 
war." 

"  I  know,"  she  murmured. 

"  You  and  I  have  had  quite  a  happy  time  together, 
these  last  few  months,"  he  went  on,  "  even  though 
there  is  still  that  black  cloud  between  us.  I  have 
tried  to  treat  you  as  kindly  and  tenderly  as  though 
I  were  really  your  husband  and  you  were  indeed  my 
wife." 

"You're  not  going  away?"  she  cried,  startled. 
"  I  couldn't  bear  that !  No  one  could  ever  be  so 
swec^  as  you  have  been  to  me." 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION        293 

"  Dear,"  he  said,  "  I  want  you  to  think  —  of  your 
husband  —  of  Everard.  He  was  a  soldier  once  for 
a  short  time,  was  he  not?  What  do  you  think  he 
would  have  done  now  that  this  terrible  war  has 
come?  " 

"  He  would  have  done  what  you  will  do,"  she  an- 
swered, with  the  slightest  possible  tremor  in  her  tone. 
"  He  would  have  become  a  soldier  again,  he  would 
have  fought  for  his  country." 

"  And  so  must  I  —  fight  for  my  country,"  he  de- 
clared. "  That  is  wh}'  I  must  leave  y^ou  for  an  hour 
now  while  I  make  some  calls.  I  shall  be  back  to 
luncheon.  Directly  afterwards  we  must  start.  I 
have  many  things  to  arrange  first,  though.  Life  is 
not  going  to  be  very  easy  for  the  next  few  daj's." 

She  held  on  to  his  arm.  She  seemed  curiously  re- 
luctant to  let  him  go. 

"  Everard,"  she  said,  "  when  we  are  at  Dominey 
shall  I  be  able  to  see  Doctor  Harrison?  " 

"  Of  course,"  he  assured  her. 

"  There  is  something  I  want  to  sa}-  to  him,"  she 
confided,  "  something  I  want  to  ask  you,  too.  Are 
you  the  same  person,  Everard,  when  you  are  in  town 
as  when  you  are  in  the  country  ?  " 

He  was  a  little  taken  aback  at  her  question  — 
asked,  too,  with  such  almost  plaintive  seriousness. 
The  very  aberration  it  suggested  seemed  altogether 
denied  by  her  appearance.  She  was  wearing  a  dress 
of  black  and  white  muslin,  a  large  black  hat,  Paris 
shoes.  Her  stockings,  her  gloves,  all  the  trifling  de- 
tails of  her  toilette,  were  carefully  chosen,  and  her 
clothes    themselves    gracefully    and    naturally   worn. 


294        THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

Socially,  too,  she  had  been  amazingly  successful. 
Only  the  week  before,  Caroline  had  come  to  him  with 
a  little  shrug  of  the  shoulders. 

"  I  have  been  trj'ing  to  be  kind  to  Rosamund,"  she 
said,  "  and  finding  out  instead  how  unnecessary  it  is. 
She  is  quite  the  most  popular  of  the  younger  mar- 
ried women  in  our  set.  You  don't  deserve  such  luck, 
Everard." 

"  You  know  the  proverb  about  the  old  roue,"  he 
had  replied. 

His  mind  had  wandered  for  a  moment.  He  real- 
ised Rosamund's  question  with  a  little  start. 

"  The  same  person,  dear.''  "  he  repeated.  "  I  think 
so.     Don't  I  seem  so  to  you.^  " 

She  shook  her  head. 

"  I  am  not  sure,"  she  answered,  a  little  mysteri- 
ously. "  You  see,  in  the  country  I  still  remember 
sometimes  that  awful  night  when  I  so  nearly  lost  my 
reason.  I  have  never  seen  you  look  as  you  looked 
that  night." 

"  You  would  rather  not  go  back,  perhaps .''  " 

"  That  is  the  strange  part  of  it,"  she  replied. 
"  There  is  nothing  in  the  world  I  want  so  much  to  do. 
There's  an  empty  taxi,  dear,"  she  added,  as  they 
reached  the  gate.  "  I  shall  go  in  and  tell  Justine 
about  the  packing." 


CHAPTER  XX\^II 

Within  the  course  of  the  next  few  days,  a  strange 
rumour  spread  through  Dominey  and  the  district, — 
horn  the  farm  labourer  to  the  farmer,  from  the 
school  children  to  their  homes,  from  the  village  post- 
office  to  the  neighbouring  hamlets.  A  gang  of  wood- 
men from  a  neighbouring  count^^  with  an  engine  and 
all  the  machiner}-  of  their  craft,  had  started  to  work 
razing  to  the  ground  everything  in  the  shape  of  tree 
or  shrub  at  the  north  end  of  the  Black  Wood.  The 
matter  of  the  war  was  promptly  forgotten.  Be- 
fore the  second  da}',  every  man,  woman  and  child  in 
the  place  had  paid  an  awed  visit  to  the  outskirts  of 
the  wood,  had  listened  to  the  whirr  of  machinery,  had 
gazed  upon  the  great  bridge  of  planks  leading  into 
the  wood,  had  peered,  in  the  hope  of  some  strange 
discovery,  into  the  tents  of  the  men  who  were  camp- 
ing out.  The  men  themselves  were  not  communica- 
tive, and  the  first  time  the  foreman  had  been  known 
to  open  his  mouth  was  when  Dominey  walked  down 
to  discuss  progress,  on  the  morning  after  his  arrival. 

"  It's  a  dirt>^  bit  of  work,  sir,"  he  confided.  "  I 
don't  know  as  I  ever  came  across  a  bit  of  woodland 
as  was  so  utterl}',  hopelessh^  rotten.  Why,  the  wood 
crumbles  when  you  touch  it,  and  the  men  have  to  be 
within  reach  of  one  another  the  whole  of  the  time. 


296        THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

though  we've  a  matter  of  five  hundred  planks  down 
there." 

"  Come  across  anything  unusual  yet?  " 

"  We  ain't  come  across  anything  that  isn't  unusual 
so  far,  sir.  My  men  are  all  wearing  extra  leggings 
to  keep  them  from  being  bitten  by  them  adders  —  as 
long  as  my  arm,  some  on  'em.  And  there's  fungus 
there  which,  when  you  touch  it,  sends  out  a  smell 
enough  to  make  a  strong  man  faint.  We  killed  a 
cat  the  first  day,  as  big  and  as  fierce  as  a  young 
tigress.      It's  a  queer  job,  sir." 

"How  long  will  it  take?" 

"  Matter  of  three  weeks,  sir,  and  when  we've  got 
the  timber  out  3^ou'll  be  well  advised  to  burn  it.  It's 
not  worth  a  snap  of  the  fingers. —  Begging  your 
pardon,  sir,"  the  man  went  on,  "  the  old  lady  in  the 
distance  there  hangs  about  the  whole  of  the  time. 
Some  of  my  men  are  half  scared  of  her." 

Dominey  swung  around.  On  a  mound  a  little  dis- 
tance away  in  the  park,  Rachael  Unthank  was  stand- 
ing. In  her  rusty  black  clothes,  unrelieved  by  any 
trace  of  colour,  her  white  cheeks  and  strange  eyes, 
even  in  the  morning  light  she  was  a  repellent  figure. 
Dominej'^  strolled  across  to  her. 

"  You  see,  Mrs.  Unthank,"  he  began  — 

She  interrupted  him.  Her  skinny  hand  was 
stretched  out  towards  the  wood. 

"  What  are  those  men  doing.  Sir  Everard  Dom- 
iney ?  "  she  demanded.  "  What  is  your  will  with  the 
wood?  " 

"  I  am  carrying  out  a  determination  I  came  to  in 
the  winter,"  Dominey  replied.     "  Those  men  are  go- 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION        297 

ing  to  cut  and  hew  their  way  from  one  end  of  the 
Black  Wood  to  the  other,  until  not  a  tree  or  a  bush 
remains  upright.  As  they  cut,  they  burn.  After- 
wards, I  shall  have  it  drained.  We  may  live  to  see 
a  field  of  corn  there,  Mrs.  Unthank." 

"You  will  dare  to  do  this?  "  she  asked  hoarsely. 

"  Will  you  dare  to  tell  me  why  I  should  not,  Mrs. 
Unthank.?"" 

She  relapsed  into  silence,  and  Dominey  passed  on. 
But  that  night,  as  Rosamund  and  he  were  lingering 
over  their  dessert,  enjo^'ing  the  strange  quiet  and  the 
wonderful  breeze  which  crept  in  at  the  open  window, 
Parkins  announced  a  visitor. 

"  Mrs.  Unthank  is  in  the  library,  sir,"  he  an- 
nounced. "  She  would  be  glad  if  you  could  spare  her 
five  minutes." 

Rosamund  shivered  slightly  but  nodded  as  Dominey 
glanced  towards  her  enquiringly. 

"  Don't  let  me  see  her,  please,"  she  begged.  "  You 
must  go,  of  course. —     Everard !  " 

"Yes,  dear?" 

"  I  know  what  you  are  doing  out  there,  although 
you  have  never  said  a  word  to  me  about  it,"  she  con- 
tinued, with  an  odd  little  note  of  passion  in  her  tone. 
"  Don't  let  her  persuade  you  to  stop.  Let  them  cut 
and  burn  and  hew  till  there  isn't  room  for  a  mouse  to 
hide.     You  promise?  " 

"  I  promise,"  he  answered. 

Mrs.  Unthank  was  making  every  effort  to  keep  un- 
der control  her  fierce  discomposure.  She  rose  as 
Dominey  entered  the  room  and  dropped  an  old-fash- 
ioned curtsey. 


298        THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

"  Well,  Mrs.  Unthank,"  he  enquired,  "  what  can  I 
do  for  you?  " 

"  It's  about  the  wood  again,  sir,"  she  confessed. 
"  I  can't  bear  it.  All  night  long  I  seem  to  hear  those 
axes,  and  the  calling  of  the  men." 

"What  is  your  objection,  Mrs.  Unthank,  to  the 
destruction  of  the  Black  Wood.''  "  Dominey  asked 
bluntly.  "  It  is  nothing  more  nor  less  than  a  noisome 
pest-hole.  Its  very  presence  there,  after  all  that  she 
has  suffered,  is  a  menace  to  Lad}'^  Dominey's  nerves, 
I  am  determined  to  sweep  it  from  the  face  of  the 
earth." 

The  forced  respect  was  already  beginning  to  dis- 
appear from  her  manner. 

"  There's  evil  will  come  to  you  if  you  do.  Sir 
Everard,"  she  declared  doggedlj'. 

"  Plenty  of  evil  has  come  to  me  from  that  wood 
as  it  is,"  he  reminded  her. 

"  You  mean  to  disturb  the  spirit  of  him  whose 
body  you  threw  there.''  "  she  persisted. 

Dominey  looked  at  her  calmly.  Some  sort  of  evil 
seem.ed  to  have  lit  in  her  face.  Her  lips  had  shrunk 
apart,  showing  her  yellow  teeth.  The  fire  in  her 
narrowed  eyes  was  the  fire  of  hatred. 

"  I  am  no  murderer,  Mrs.  Unthank,"  he  said. 
"  Your  son  stole  out  from  the  shadow  of  that  wood, 
attacked  me  in  a  cowardly  manner,  and  we  fought. 
He  was  mad  when  he  attacked  me,  he  fought  like  a 
madman,  and,  notwithstanding  my  superior  strength, 
I  was  glad  to  get  away  alive.  I  never  touched  his 
body.  It  laj^  where  he  fell.  If  he  crept  into  the 
wood  and  died  there,  then  his  death  was  not  at  my 


i 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION        299 

door.  He  sought  for  my  life  as  I  never  sought  for 
his." 

"  You'd  done  him  wrong,"  the  woman  muttered. 

"  That  again  is  false.  His  passion  for  Lady  Dom- 
iney  was  uninvited  and  unreciprocated.  Her  only 
feeling  concerning  him  was  one  of  fear ;  that  the 
whole  countryside  knows.  Your  son  was  a  lonely,  a 
morose  and  an  ill-living  man,  Mrs.  Unthank.  If 
cither  of  us  had  murder  in  our  hearts,  it  was  he,  not 
I.  And  as  for  3'ou,"  Dominey  went  on,  after  a  mo- 
ment's pause,  "  I  think  that  you  have  had  your  re- 
venge, Mrs.  Unthank.  It  was  you  who  nursed  my 
wife  into  insanity.  It  was  you  who  fed  her  witli 
the  horror  of  your  son's  so-called  spirit.  I  think 
that  if  I  had  stayed  away  another  two  years.  Lady 
Dominey  would  have  been  in  a  mad-house  to-day." 

"  I  would  to  Heaven,"  the  woman  cried,  *'  that 
you'd  rotted  to  death  in  Africa !  " 

"  You  carry  \^our  evil  feelings  far,  Mrs.  Unthank," 
he  replied.  "  Take  my  advice.  Give  up  this  foolish 
idea  that  the  Black  Wood  is  still  the  home  of  your 
son's  spirit.  Go  and  live  on  your  annuity  in  another 
part  of  the  country  and  forget." 

He  moved  across  the  room  to  throw  open  a  window. 
Her  eyes  followed  him  wonderingly. 

"  I  have  heard  a  rumour,"  she  said  slowly ;  "  there 
has  been  a  word  spoken  here  and  there  about  you. 
I've  had  my  doubts  sometimes.  I  have  them  again 
every  time  you  speak.  Are  you  really  Everard  Dom- 
iney 


?  >« 


He  swung  around  and  faced  her. 
"Who  else.?" 


300        THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

"  There's  one,"  she  went  on,  "  has  never  believed 
it,  and  that's  her  ladyship.  I've  heard  strange  talk 
from  the  people  who've  come  under  your  masterful 
ways.  You're  a  harder  man  than  the  Everard  Dom- 
iney  I  remember.  What  if  you  should  be  an  im- 
postor.'^ " 

"  You  have  only  to  prove  that,  Mrs.  Unthank," 
Dominey  replied,  "  and  a  portion,  at  any  rate,  of 
the  Black  Wood  may  remain  standing.  You  will 
find  it  a  little  difficult,  though. —  You  must  excuse 
my  ringing  the  bell.  I  see  no  object  in  asking  you 
to  remain  longer." 

She  rose  unwillingly  to  her  feet.  Her  manner  was 
sullen  and  unyielding. 

"  You  are  asking  for  the  evil  things,"  she  warned 
him, 

"  Be  assured,"  Dominey  answered,  "  that  if  they 
come  I  shall  know  how  to  deal  with  them." 

Dominey  found  Rosamund  and  Doctor  Harrison, 
who  had  walked  over  from  the  village,  lingering  on 
the  terrace.     He  welcomed  the  latter  warmly. 

"  You  are  a  godsend.  Doctor,"  he  declared.  "  I 
have  been  obliged  to  leave  my  port  untasted  for  want 
of  a  companion.  You  will  excuse  us  for  a  moment, 
Rosamund.^  " 

She  nodded  pleasantly,  and  the  doctor  followed  his 
host  into  the  dining-room  and  took  his  seat  at  the 
table  where  the  dessert  still  remained. 

"  Old  woman  threatening  mischief,  eh.''  "  the  latter 
asked,  with  a  keen  glance  from  under  his  shaggy 
grey  eyebrsws. 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION        301 

"I  think  she  means  it,"  Dominey  replied,  as  he 
filled  his  guest's  glass.  "  Personally,"  he  went  on, 
after  a  moment's  pause,  "  the  present  situation  is 
beginning  to  confirm  an  old  suspicion  of  mine.  I 
am  a  hard  and  fast  materialist,  you  know,  Doctor, 
in  certain  matters,  and  I  have  not  the  slightest  faith 
in  the  vindictive  mother,  terrified  to  death  lest  the 
razing  of  a  wood  of  unwholesome  character  should 
turn  out  into  the  cold  world  the  spirit  of  her  angel 
son." 

"  What  do  you  believe?  "  the  doctor  asked  bluntly. 

"  I  would  rather  not  tell  you  at  the  present  mo- 
ment," Dominey  answered.  "  It  would  sound  too 
fantastic." 

"  Your  note  this  afternoon  spoke  of  urgency," 
the  doctor  observed. 

"  The  matter  is  urgent.  I  want  you  to  do  me  a 
great  favour  —  to  remain  here  all  night." 

"You  are  expecting  something  to  happen?" 

"  I  wish,  at  any  rate,  to  be  prejDared." 

"  I'll  stay,  with  pleasure,"  the  doctor  promised. 
"You  can  lend  me  some  paraphernalia,  I  suppose? 
And  give  me  a  shake-down  somewhere  near 
Lady  Dominey's.  By-the-by,"  he  began,  and  hesi- 
tated. 

"  I  have  followed  your  advice,  or  rather  your 
orders,"  Dominey  interrupted,  a  little  harshly.  "  It 
has  not  always  been  easy,  especially  in  London,  where 
Rosamund  is  away  from  these  associations. —  I  am 
hoping  great  things  from  what  may  happen  to-night, 
or  very  soon." 

The  doctor  nodded  sympathetically. 


302        THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

"  I  shouldn't  wonder  if  you  weren't  on  the  right 
track,"  he  declared. 

Rosamund  came  in  through  the  window  to  them 
and  seated  herself  by  Dominey's  side. 

"  Why  are  you  two  whispering  like  conspirators?  " 
she  demanded. 

"  Because  we  are  conspirators,"  he  replied  lightly. 
"  I  have  persuaded  Doctor  Harrison  to  stay  the 
night.  He  would  like  a  room  in  our  wing.  Will 
you  let  the  maids  know,  dear.''  " 

She  nodded  thoughtfully. 

"  Of  course !  There  are  several  rooms  quite  ready. 
Mrs.  Midgeley  thought  that  we  might  be  bringing 
down  some  guests.  I  am  quite  sure  that  we  can  make 
Doctor  Harrison  comfortable." 

"  No  doubt  about  that,  Lady  Dominey,"  the  doc- 
tor declared.  "  Let  me  be  as  near  to  your  apart- 
ments as  possible." 

There  was  a  shade  of  anxiety  in  her  face. 

"  You  think  that  to-night  something  will  happen.''  " 
she  asked. 

"  To-night,  or  one  night  very  soon,"  Dominey  as- 
sented. "  It  is  just  as  well  for  you  to  be  prepared. 
You  will  not  be  afraid,  dear.''  You  will  have  the 
doctor  on  one  side  of  you  and  me  on  the  other." 

"  I  am  only  afraid  of  one  thing,"  she  answered  a 
little  enigmatically.     "  I  have  been  so  happy  lately." 

Dominey,  changed  into  ordinary  morning  clothes, 
with  a  thick  cord  tied  round  his  body,  a  revolver  in 
his  pocket,  and  a  loaded  stick  in  his  hand,  spent  the 
remainder  of  that  night  and  part  of  the  early  morn- 


V 


Into  the  open  there  came  a  dark  shape,  the  irregularity  of  its 
movements  swiftly  explained.     Page  303. 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION        303 

ing  concealed  behind  a  great  clump  of  rhododendrons, 
his  eyes  fixed  upon  the  shadowy  stretch  of  park 
which  lay  between  the  house  and  the  Black  Wood. 
The  night  was  moonless  but  clear,  and  when  his  eyes 
were  once  accustomed  to  the  pale  but  sombre  twi- 
light, the  whole  landscape  and  the  moving  objects 
upon  it  were  dimly  visible.  The  habits  of  his  years 
of  bush  life  seemed  instinctively,  in  those  few  hours 
of  waiting,  to  have  reestablished  themselves.  Every 
sense  was  strained  and  active ;  every  night  sound  — 
of  which  the  hooting  of  some  owls,  disturbed  from 
their  lurking  place  in  the  Black  Wood,  w^as  predom- 
inant —  heard  and  accounted  for.  And  then,  just 
as  he  had  glanced  at  his  watch  and  found  that  it 
was  close  upon  two  o'clock,  came  the  first  real  inti- 
mation that  something  was  likely  to  happen.  Mov- 
ing across  the  park  towards  him  he  heard  the  sound 
of  a  faint  patter,  curious  and  irregular  in  rhythm, 
which  came  from  behind  a  range  of  low  hillocks.  He 
raised  himself  on  his  hands  and  knees  to  watch.  His 
eyes  w^ere  fastened  upon  a  certain  spot, —  a  stretch 
of  the  open  park  between  himself  and  the  hillocks. 
The  patter  ceased  and  began  again.  Into  the  open 
there  came  a  dark  shape,  the  irregularity  of  its 
movements  swiftly  explained.  It  moved  at  first  upon 
all  fours,  then  on  two  legs,  then  on  all  fours  again. 
It  crept  nearer  and  nearer,  and  Dominey,  as  he 
watched,  laid  aside  his  stick.  It  reached  the  terrace, 
paused  underneath  Rosamund's  window,  now  barely 
half  a  dozen  yards  from  where  he  was  crouching. 
Deliberately  he  waited,  waited  for  what  he  knew 
must  soon  come.     Then  the  deep  silence  of  the  breath- 


304        THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

less  night  was  broken  by  that  familiar,  unearthly 
scream.  Dominey  waited  till  even  its  echoes  had 
died  away.  Then  he  ran  a  few  steps,  bent  double, 
and  stretched  out  his  hands.  Once  more,  for  the 
last  time,  that  devil's  cry  broke  the  deep  stillness  of 
the  August  morning,  throbbing  a  little  as  though  with 
a  new  fear,  dying  away  as  though  the  fingers  which 
crushed  it  back  down  the  straining  throat  had  indeed 
crushed  with  it  the  last  flicker  of  some  unholy  life. 

When  Doctor  Harrison  made  his  hurried  appear- 
ance, a  few  moments  later,  he  found  Dominey  seated 
upon  the  terrace,  furiously  smoking  a  cigarette.  On 
the  ground,  a  few  yards  away,  lay  something  black 
and  motionless. 

"  What  is  it?  "  the  doctor  gasped. 

For  the  first  time  Dominey  showed  some  signs  of 
a  lack  of  self-control.  His  voice  was  choked  and  un- 
even. 

"  Go  and  look  at  it,  Doctor,"  he  said.  "  It's  tied 
up,  hand  and  foot.  You  can  see  where  the  spirit  of 
Roger  Unthank  has  hidden  itself." 

"  Bosh !  "  the  doctor  answered,  with  grim  contempt. 
"  It's  Roger  Unthank  himself.     The  beast !  " 

A  little  stream  of  servants  came  running  out. 
Dominey  gave  a  few  orders  quickly. 

"  Ring  up  the  garage,"  he  directed,  "  and  I  shall 
want  one  of  the  men  to  go  into  Norwich  to  the  hos- 
pital. Doctor,  will  you  go  up  and  see  Lady  Dom- 
iney ?  " 

The  habits  of  a  lifetime  broke  down :  Parkins,  the 
immaculate,  the  silent,  the  perfect  automaton,  asked 
an  eager  question. 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION        305 

"What  is  it,  sir?" 

There  was  the  sound  of  a  window  opening  over- 
head. At  that  moment  Parkins  would  not  have  asked 
in  vain  for  an  annuity.  Dominey  glanced  at  the  little 
semicircle  of  servants  and  raised  his  voice. 

"  It  is  the  end,  I  trust,  of  these  foolish  supersti- 
tions about  Roger  Unthank's  ghost.  There  lies 
Roger  Unthank,  half  beast,  half  man.  For  some 
reason  or  other  —  some  lunatic's  reason,  of  course 
—  he  has  chosen  to  hide  himself  in  the  Black  Wood 
all  these  years.  His  mother,  I  presume,  has  been  his 
accomplice  and  taken  him  food.  He  is  still  alive  but 
in  a  disgusting  state." 

There  was  a  little  awed  murmur.  Dominey's  voice 
had  become  quite  matter  of  fact. 

"  I  suppose,"  he  continued,  "  his  first  idea  was  to 
revenge  himself  upon  us  and  this  household,  by  whom 
he  imagined  himself  badly  treated.  The  man,  how- 
ever, was  half  a  madman  when  he  came  to  the  neigh- 
bourhood and  has  behaved  like  one  ever  since. — 
Johnson,"  Dominey  continued,  singling  out  a  sturdy 
footman  with  sound  common  sense,  *'  get  ready  to 
take  this  creature  into  Norwich  Hospital.  Say  that 
if  I  do  not  come  in  during  the  day,  a  letter  of  ex- 
planation will  follow  from  me.  The  rest  of  you, 
with  the  exception  of  Parkins,  please  go  to  bed." 

With  little  exclamations  of  wonder  they  began  to 
disperse.  Then  one  of  them  paused  and  pointed 
across  the  park.  Moving  with  incredible  swiftness 
came  the  gaunt,  black  figure  of  Rachael  Unthank, 
swaying  sometimes  on  her  feet,  yet  in  their  midst 
before  they  could  realise  it.      She  staggered  to  the 


3o6        THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

prostrate  body  and  threw  herself  upon  her  knees. 
Her  hands  rested  upon  the  unseen  face,  her  eyes 
glared  across  at  Dominey. 

"  So  you've  got  him  at  last !  "  she  gasped. 

"  Mrs.  Unthank,"  Dominey  said  sternly,  "  3'^ou  are 
in  time  to  accompany  your  son  to  the  hospital  at 
Norwich.  The  car  will  be  here  in  two  minutes.  I 
have  nothing  to  say  to  you.  Your  own  conscience 
should  be  sufficient  punishment  for  keeping  that  poor 
creature  alive  in  such  a  fashion  and  ministering  dur- 
ing my  absence  to  his  accursed  desires  for  vengeance." 

"  He  would  have  died  if  I  hadn't  brought  him  food," 
she  muttered.  "  I  have  wept  all  the  tears  a  woman's 
broken  heart  could  wring  out,  beseeching  him  to  come 
back  to  mc." 

"  Yet,"  Dominej'^  insisted,  "  you  shared  his  foul 
plot  for  vengeance  against  a  harmless  woman.  You 
let  him  come  and  make  his  ghoulish  noises,  night  by 
night,  under  these  windows,  without  a  word  of  re- 
monstrance. You  knew  very  well  what  their  accursed 
object  was  —  you,  with  a  delicate  woman  in  3'our 
charge  who  trusted  you.  You  are  an  evil  pair,  but 
of  the  two  3'ou  are  worse  than  your  half-witted 
son." 

The  woman  made  no  reply.  She  was  still  on  her 
knees,  bending  over  the  prostrate  figure,  from  whose 
lips  now  came  a  faint  moaning.  Then  the  lights  of 
the  car  flashed  out  as  it  left  the  garage,  passed 
through  the  iron  gates  and  drew  up  a  few  yards  away. 

"  Help  him  in,"  Dominey  ordered.  *'  You  can 
loosen  his  cords,  Johnson,  as  soon  as  you  have  started. 
He  has  very  little  strength.     Tell  them  at  the  hos- 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION        307 

pital  I  shall  probably  be  there  during  the  daj',  or  to- 
morrow'." 

With  a  little  shiver  the  two  men  stooped  to  their 
task.  Their  prisoner  muttered  to  himself  all  the 
time,  but  made  no  resistance.  Rachael  Unthank,  as 
she  stepped  in  to  take  her  place  by  his  side,  turned 
once  more  to  Dominey.      She  was  a  broken  woman. 

"  You're  rid  of  us,"  she  sobbed,  "  perhaps  for- 
ever.—  You've  said  harsh  things  of  both  of  us. 
Roger  isn't  always  —  so  bad.  Sometimes  he's  more 
gentle  than  at  others.  You'd  have  thought  then  that 
he  was  just  a  baby,  living  there  for  love  of  the  wind 
and  the  trees  and  the  birds.     If  he  comes  to  — " 

Her  voice  broke.  Dominey's  reply  was  swift  and 
not  unkind.     He  pointed  to  the  window  above. 

"  If  Lady  Dominey  recovers,  you  and  your  son 
are  forgiven.  If  she  never  recovers,  I  wish  you  both 
the  blackest  corner  of  hell." 

The  car  drove  off.  Doctor  Harrison  met  Dom- 
iney on  the  threshold  as  he  turned  towards  the  house. 

"  Her  ladyship  is  unconscious  now,"  he  announced. 
"  Perhaps  that  is  a  good  sign.  I  never  liked  that 
unnatural  calm.  She'll  be  unconscious,  I  think,  for 
a  great  many  hours.  For  God's  sake,  come  and  get 
a  whisky  and  soda  and  give  me  one !  " 

The  early  morning  sunshine  lay  upon  the  park 
when  the  two  men  at  last  separated.  They  stood 
for  a  moment  looking  out.  From  the  Black  Wood 
came  the  whirr  of  a  saw.  The  little  troop  of  men 
had  left  their  tents.  The  crash  of  a  fallen  tree  her- 
alded their  morning's  work. 


308         ItiiS-  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

"You  are  still  going  on  with  that?"  the  doctor 
asked. 

"  To  the  very  last  stump  of  a  tree,  to  the  last  bush, 
to  the  last  cluster  of  weeds,"  Dominey  replied,  with 
a  sudden  passion  in  his  tone.  "  I  will  have  that  place 
razed  to  the  bare  level  of  the  earth,  and  I  will  have 
its  poisonous  swamps  sucked  dry.  I  have  hated  that 
foul  spot,"  he  went  on,  "  ever  since  I  realised  what 
suffering  it  meant  to  her.  My  reign  here  may  not 
be  long,  Doctor  —  I  have  my  own  tragedy  to  deal 
with  —  but  those  who  come  after  me  will  never  feel 
the  blight  of  that  accursed  place." 

The  doctor  grunted.  His  inner  thoughts  he  kept 
to  himself. 

"  Maybe  you're  right,"  he  conceded. 


CHAPTER  XXIX 

The  heat  of  a  sulphurous  afternoon  —  a  curious 
parallel  in  its  presage  of  coming  storm  to  the  fast- 
approaching  crisis  in  Domincy's  own  affairs  —  had 
driven  Dominey  from  his  study  out  on  to  the  terrace. 
In  a  chair  by  his  side  lounged  Eddy  Pelham,  im- 
maculate in  a  suit  of  white  flannels.  It  was  the  fifth 
day  since  the  mystery  of  the  Black  Wood  had  been 
solved. 

"  Ripping,  old  chap,  of  you  to  have  me  down 
here,"  the  young  man  remarked  amiably,  his  hand 
stretching  out  to  a  tumbler  which  stood  b}'  his  side. 
"  The  country,  when  you  can  get  ice,  is  a  paradise 
this  weather,  especially  when  London's  so  full  of 
ghastly  rumours  and  all  that  sort  of  thing,  eh.'' 
What's  the  latest  news  of  her  ladyship?  " 

"  Still  unconscious,"  Dominey  replied.  "  The  doc- 
tors, however,  seem  perfectly  satisfied.  Everythin,g 
depends  on  her  waking  moments." 

The  young  man  abandoned  the  subject  with  a  mur- 
mur of  hopeful  sympathy.  His  eyes  were  fixed  upon 
a  little  cloud  of  dust  in  the  distance. 

"  Expecting  visitors  to-day?  "  he  asked. 

"  Should  not  be  surprised,"  was  the  somewhat  la- 
conic answer. 

The  young  man  stood  up,  yawned  and  stretched 
himself. 


310        THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

"  I'll  make  myself  scarce,"  he  said.  "  Jove !  "  he 
added  approvingly,  lingering  for  a  moment.  "  Jolly 
well  cut,  the  tunic  of  your  uniform,  Dominey !  If  a 
country  in  peril  ever  decides  to  waive  the  matter  of 
my  indifferent  physique  and  send  me  out  to  the  rescue, 
I  shall  go  to  3'our  man." 

Dominey  smiled. 

"  Mine  is  only  the  local  Yeomanry  rig-out,"  he 
replied.     "  The3^  will  nab  you  for  the  Guards ! " 

Dominey  stepped  back  through  the  open  windows 
into  his  study  as  Pelham  strolled  off.  He  was  seated 
at  his  desk,  poring  over  some  letters,  when  a  few 
minutes  later  Seaman  was  ushered  into  the  room. 
For  a  single  moment  his  muscles  tightened,  his  frame 
became  tense.  Then  he  realised  his  visitor's  out- 
stretched hands  of  welcome  and  he  relaxed.  Seaman 
was  perspiring,  vociferous  and  excited. 

"  At  last !  "  he  exclaimed.  "  Donner  und  !  —  My 
God,  Dominey,  what  is  this.''  " 

"  Thirteen  years  ago,"  Dominey  explained,  "  I  re- 
signed a  commission  in  the  Norfolk  Yeomanr3^  That 
little  matter,  however,  has  been  adjusted.  At  a  crisis 
like  this  — " 

"  M}'  friend,  you  are  wonderful !  "  Seaman  inter- 
rupted solemnly.  "  You  are  a  man  after  my  own 
heart,  you  are  thorough,  you  leave  nothing  undone. 
That  is  why,"  he  added,  lowering  his  voice  a  little, 
"  we  are  the  greatest  race  in  the  world.  Drink  be- 
fore everything,  my  friend,"  he  went  on,  "  drink  I 
must  have.  What  a  day  !  The  very  clouds  that  hide 
the  sun  are  full  of  sulphurous  heat." 

Dominey  rang  the  bell,  ordered  hock  and  seltzer 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION        311 

and  ice.  Seaman  drank  and  threw  himself  into  an 
easy-chair. 

"  There  is  no  fear  of  your  being  called  out  of  the 
country  because  of  that,  I  hope?"  he  asked  a  little 
anxiously,  nodding  his  head  towards  his  companion's 
uniform. 

"  Not  at  present,"  Dominey  answered.  "  I  am  a 
trifle  over  age  to  go  with  the  first  batch  or  two. 
Where  have  you  been?  " 

Seaman  hitched  his  chair  a  little  nearer. 

"  In  Ireland,"  he  confided.  "  Sorry  to  desert  you 
as  I  did,  but  you  do  not  begin  to  count  for  us  just 
yet.  There  was  just  a  faint  doubt  as  to  what  they 
were  going  to  do  about  internment.  That  is  why  I 
had  to  get  the  Irish  trip  off  my  mind." 

"  What  has  been  decided?  " 

"  The  Government  has  the  matter  under  considera- 
tion," Seaman  replied,  with  a  chuckle.  "  I  can  cer- 
tainly give  myself  six  months  before  I  need  to  slip 
off.     Now  tell  me,  why  do  I  find  you  down  here?  " 

"  After  Terniloff  left,"  Dominey  explained,  "  I  fell 
I  Avanted  to  get  away.  I  have  been  asked  to  start 
some  recruiting  work  down  here." 

"  Terniloff  —  left  his  little  volume  with  you?  " 

"  Yes !  " 

"Where  is  it?" 

"  Safe,"  Dominey  replied. 

Seaman  mopped  his  forehead. 

"  It  needs  to  be,"  he  muttered.  "  I  have  orders  to 
see  it  destroyed.  We  can  talk  of  that  presently. 
Sometimes,  when  I  am  away  from  you,  I  tremble. 
It  may  sound  foolish,  but  you  have  in  your  posses- 


312        THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

sion  just  the  two  things  —  that  map  and  Von  Terni- 
lofF's  memoirs  —  which  would  wreck  our  propaganda 
in  every  country  of  the  world." 

"  Both  are  safe,"  Dominey  assured  him.  "  By  the 
by,  my  friend,"  he  went  on,  "  do  you  know  that  you 
yourself  are  forgetting  your  usual  caution.''  " 

"  In  what  respect.''  "  Seaman  demanded  quickly. 

"  As  3^ou  stooped  to  sit  down  just  now,  I  distinctly 
saw  the  shape  of  your  revolver  in  your  hip  pocket. 
You  know  as  well  as  I  do  that  with  your  name  and 
the  fact  that  you  are  only  a  naturalised  Englishman, 
it  is  inexcusably  foolish  to  be  carrying  firearms  about 
just  now." 

Seaman  thrust  his  hand  into  his  pocket  and  threw 
the  revolver  upon  the  table. 

"  You  are  quite  right,"  he  acknowledged.  "  Take 
care  of  it  for  me.  I  took  it  with  me  to  Ireland,  be- 
cause one  never  knov^'s  what  may  happen  in  that 
amazing  country." 

Dominey  swept  it  carelessly  into  the  drawer  of  the 
desk  at  w^hich  he  was  sitting. 

"  Our  w^eapons,  from  now  on,"  Seaman  continued, 
"  must  be  weapons  of  guile  and  craft.  You  and  I 
will  have,  alas  !  to  see  less  of  one  another,  Dominey. 
In  many  ways  it  is  unfortunate  that  we  have  not 
been  able  to  keep  England  out  of  this  for  a  few 
more  months.  However,  the  situation  must  be  dealt 
with  as  it  exists.  So  far  as  you  are  concerned,  you 
have  practically  secured  yourself  against  suspicion. 
You  will  hold  a  brilliant  and  isolated  place  amongst 
those  who  are  serving  the  great  War  Lord,  When 
I  do  approach  you,  it  will  be  for  sympathy  and  assist- 


i 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION        313 

ance  against  the  suspicions  of  these  far-seeing  Eng- 
Hshmen !  " 

Dominej'  nodded. 

"  You  will  stay  the  night?  "  he  asked. 

"  If  I  may,"  Seaman  assented.  "  It  is  the  last 
time  for  many  months  when  it  will  be  wise  for  us  to 
meet  on  such  intimate  terms.  Perhaps  our  dear 
friend  Parkins  will  take  vinous  note  of  the  occa- 
sion." 

"  In  other  words,"  Dominey  said,  "  you  propose 
that  we  shall  drink  the  Dominey  cabinet  hock  and  the 
Dominey  port  to  the  glory  of  our  countr3^" 

"  To  the  glory  of  our  countr}',"  Seaman  echoed. 
"  So  be  it,  my  friend. —     Listen." 

A  car  had  passed  along  the  avenue  in  front  of  the 
house.  There  was  the  sound  of  voices  in  the  hall, 
a  knock  at  the  door,  the  rustle  of  a  woman's  clothes. 
Parkins,  a  little  disturbed,  announced  the  arrivals. 

"  The  Princess  of  Eiderstrom  and  —  a  gentleman. 
The  Princess  said  that  her  errand  with  you  was 
urgent,  sir,"  he  added,  turning  apologetically  to- 
wards his  master. 

The  Princess  was  already  in  the  room,  and  fol- 
lowing her  a  short  man  in  a  suit  of  sombre  black, 
wearing  a  white  tie,  and  carrying  a  black  bowler 
hat.  He  blinked  across  the  room  through  his  thick 
glasses,  and  Dominey  knew  that  the  end  had  come. 
The  door  was  closed  behind  them.  The  Princess 
came  a  little  further  into  the  room.  Her  hand  was 
extended  towards  Domine}',  but  not  in  greeting. 
Her  white  finger  pointed  straight  at  him.  She  turned 
to  her  companion. 


314        THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

"  Which  is  that,  Doctor  Schmidt?  "  she  demanded. 

"  The  Englishman,  by  God !  "  Schmidt  answered. 

The  silence  which  reigned  for  several  seconds  was 
intense  and  profound.  The  coolest  of  all  four  was 
perhaps  Domine3\  The  Princess  was  pale  with  a 
passion  which  seemed  to  sob  behind  her  words, 

"  Everard  Domine}^,"  she  cried,  "  what  have  you 
done  with  my  lover.''  What  have  you  done  with  Leo- 
pold von  Ragastcin?  " 

"  He  met  with  the  fate,"  Dominey  replied,  *'  which 
he  had  prepared  for  me.  We  fought  and  I  con- 
quered." 

"You  killed  him?" 

"  I  killed  him,"  Dominey  echoed.  "  It  was  a  mat- 
ter of  necessity.  His  body  sleeps  on  the  bed  of  the 
Blue  River." 

"  And  your  life  here  has  been  a  lie !  " 

"  On  the  contrary,  it  has  been  the  truth,"  Dom- 
ine}^  objected.  "  I  assured  you  at  the  Carlton,  when 
you  first  spoke  to  me,  and  I  have  assured  you  a  dozen 
times  since,  that  I  was  Everard  Dominey.  That  is 
my  name.     That  is  who  I  am." 

Seaman's  voice  seemed  to  come  from  a  long  way 
off.  For  the  moment  the  man  had  neither  courage 
nor  initiative.  He  seemed  as  though  he  had  received 
some  sort  of  stroke.  His  mind  was  travelling  back- 
wards. 

"  You  came  to  me  at  Cape  Town,"  he  muttered ; 
"  you  had  all  Von  Ragastein's  letters,  you  knew  his 
history,  you  had  the  Imperial  mandate." 

"  Von  Ragastein  and  I  exchanged  the  most  inti- 
mate confidences  in  his   camp,"  Dominey  said,  "  as 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION        315 

Doctor  Schmidt  there  knows.  I  told  him  my  his- 
tory, and  he  told  me  his.  The  letters  and  papers  I 
took  from  him." 

Schmidt  had  covered  his  face  with  his  hands  for 
a  moment.     His  shoulders  were  heaving. 

"  My  beloved  chief !  "  he  sobbed.  "  My  dear  de- 
voted master  I  Killed  by  that  drunken  English- 
man ! " 

"  Not  so  drunk  as  you  fancied  him,"  Dominey  said 
coolly,  "  not  so  far  gone  in  his  course  of  dissipation 
but  that  he  was  able  to  pull  himself  up  when  the 
great  incentive  came." 

The  Princess  looked  from  one  to  the  other  of  the 
two  men.  Seaman  had  still  the  appearance  of  a 
man  struggling  to  extricate  himself  from  some  sort 
of  nightmare. 

"  My  first  and  only  suspicion,"  he  faltered,  "  was 
that  night  when  Wolff  disappeared !  " 

"  Wolff's  coming  was  rather  a  tragedy,"  Dominey 
admitted.  "  Fortunately,  I  had  a  secret  service  man 
in  the  house  who  was  able  to  dispose  of  him." 

"  It  was  3'ou  who  planned  his  disappearance.?  " 
Seaman  gasped. 

"  Naturally,"  Dominey  replied.  "  He  knew  the 
truth  and  was  trying  all  the  time  to  communicate 
with  you." 

"  And  the  money .''  "  Seaman  continued,  blinking 
rapidly.  "  One  hundred  thousand  pounds,  and 
more.''  " 

"  I  understood  that  was  a  gift,"  Dominey  replied. 
"  If  the  German  Secret  Service,  however,  cares  tp 
formulate  a  claim  and  sue  me  — " 


3i6        THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

The  Princess  suddenly  Interrupted.  Her  eyes 
seemed  on  fire, 

"  What  are  you,  you  two  ?  "  she  cried,  stretching 
out  her  hands  towards  Schmidt  and  Seaman.  "  Are 
you  lumps  of  earth  —  clods  —  creatures  without 
courage  and  intelligence .?  You  can  let  him  stand 
there  —  the  Englishman  who  has  murdered  my  lover, 
who  has  befooled  you.'*  You  let  him  stand  there  and 
mock  you,  and  you  do  and  say  nothing  1  Is  his  life 
a  sacred  thing?  Has  he  none  of  your  secrets  in  his 
charge  ?  " 

"  The  great  God  above  us  I  "  Seaman  groaned,  with 
a  sudden  white  horror  in.  his  face.  "  He  has  the 
Prince's  memoirs  ?     He  has  the  Kaiser's  map  !  " 

"  On  the  contrary,"  Dominey  replied,  "  both  are 
deposited  at  the  Foreign  Office.  We  hope  to  find 
them  very  useful  a  little  later  on." 

Seaman  sprang  forward  like  a  tiger  and  went  down 
in  a  heap  as  he  almost  threw  himself  upon  Dominey's 
out-flung  fist.  Schmidt  came  stealing  across  the 
room,  and  from  underneath  his  cuff  something 
gleamed. 

"  You  are  two  to  one  I "  the  Princess  cried  pas- 
sionately, as  both  assailants  hesitated.  "  I  would  to 
God  that  I  had  a  weapon,  or  that  I  were  a  man !  " 

"  My  dear  Princess,"  a  good-humoured  voice  re- 
marked from  the  window, "  four  to  two  the  other  way, 
I  think,  what.?" 

Eddy  Pelham,  his  hands  in  his  pockets,  but  a  very 
alert  gleam  in  his  usually  vacuous  face,  stood  in  the 
windowed  doorway.  From  behind  him,  two  exceed- 
ingly formidable-looking  men  slipped  into  the  room. 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION       317 

There  was  no  fight,  not  even  a  struggle.  Seaman, 
who  had  never  recovered  from  the  shock  of  his  sur- 
prise, and  was  now  completely  unnerved,  was  hand- 
cuffed in  a  moment,  and  Schmidt  disarmed.  The  lat- 
ter was  the  first  to  break  the  curious  silence. 

"  What  have  I  done  ?  "  he  demanded.  "  Why  am 
I  treated  like  this?" 

"  Doctor  Schmidt?  "  Eddy  asked  pleasantly. 

"  That  is  my  name,  sir,"  was  the  fierce  reply.  "  I 
have  just  landed  from  East  Africa.  We  knew  noth- 
ing of  the  war  when  we  started.  I  came  to  expose 
that  man.  He  is  an  impostor  —  a  murderer!  He 
has  killed  a  German  nobleman." 

"  He  has  committed  Use  majeste!  "  Seaman  gasped. 
*'  He  has  deceived  the  Kaiser !  He  has  dared  to  sit 
in  his  presence  as  the  Baron  von  Ragastein ! " 

The  young  man  in  flannels  glanced  across  at  Dom- 
iney  and  smiled. 

*'  I  say,  you  two  don't  mean  to  be  funny  but  you 
are,"  he  declared.  "  First  of  all,  there's  Doctor 
Schmidt  accuses  Sir  Everard  here  of  being  an  im- 
postor because  he  assumed  his  own  name ;  accuses 
him  of  murdering  a  man  who  had  planned  in  cold 
blood  —  3' ou  were  in  that,  by  the  by,  Schmidt  —  to 
kill  him ;  and  then  there's  our  friend  here,  the  secre- 
tary of  the  society  for  propagating  better  relations 
between  the  business  men  of  England  and  Germany, 
complaining  because  Sir  Everard  carried  through  in 
Germany,  for  England,  exactly  what  he  believed  the 
Baron  von  Ragastein  was  carrying  out  here  — :  for 
Germany.  You're  a  curious,  thick-headed  race,  you 
Germans." 


3i8        THE  GREAT  IMPERSOl^ATION 

"  I  demand  again,"  Schmidt  shouted,  "  to  know 
by  what  right  I  am  treated  as  a  criminal?  " 

"  Because  you  are  one,"  Eddy  answered  coolly. 
"  You  and  Von  Ragastein  together  planned  the  mur- 
der of  Sir  Everard  Dominey  in  East  Africa,  and  I 
caught  you  creeping  across  the  floor  just  now  with 
a  knife  in  your  hand.  That'll  do  for  you.  Any 
questions  to  ask.  Seaman?  " 

"  None,"  was  the  surly  reply. 

"  You  are  well-advised,"  the  young  man  remarked 
oooUy.  "  Within  the  last  two  days,  your  house  in 
Forest  Hill  and  your  offices  in  London  Wall  have 
been  searched." 

"  You  have  said  enough,"  Seaman  declared. 
*'  Fate  has  gone  against  me.  I  thank  God  that  our 
master  has  abler  servants  than  I  and  the  strength 
to  crush  this  island  of  popinjays  and  fools ! " 

"  Popinjays  seems  severe,"  Eddy  murmured,  in  a 
hurt  tone.  "  However,  to  get  on  with  this  little  mat- 
ter," he  added,  turning  to  one  of  his  two  subordi- 
nates. "  You  will  find  a  military  car  outside.  Take 
these  men  over  to  the  guardroom  at  the  Norwich 
Barracks.  I  have  arranged  for  an  escort  to  see 
them  to  town.  Tell  the  colonel  I'll  be  over  later  in 
the  day." 

The  Princess  rose  from  the  chair  into  which  she 
had  subsided  a  few  moments  before.  Dominey  turned 
towards  her. 

"  Princess,"  he  said,  "  there  can  be  little  conversa- 
tion between  us.  Yet  I  shall  ask  you  to  remember 
this.  Von  Ragastein  planned  my  death  in  cold  blood. 
I  could  have  slain  him  as  an  assassin,  without  the 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION       319 

slightest  risk,  but  I  preferred  to  meet  him  face  to 
face  with  the  truth  upon  my  lips.  It  was  his  life 
or  mine.  I  fought  for  my  country's  sake,  as  he 
did  for  his." 

The  Princess  looked  at  him  with  glittering  eyes. 

"  I  shall  hate  you  to  the  end  of  my  days,"  she  de- 
clared, "  because  you  have  killed  the  thing  I  love, 
but  although  I  am  a  woman,  I  know  justice.  You 
were  chivalrous  towards  me.  You  treated  Leopold 
perhaps  better  than  he  would  have  treated  3'ou.  I 
pray  that  I  shall  never  see  your  face  again.  Be  so 
good  as  to  suffer  me  to  leave  this  house  at  once,  and 
unattended." 

Dominey  threw  open  the  windows  which  led  on  to 
the  terrace  and  stood  on  one  side.  She  passed  by 
without  a  glance  at  him  and  disappeared.  Eddy 
came  strolling  along  the  terrace  a  few  moments  later. 

"  Nice  old  ducks,  those  two,  dear  heart,"  he  con- 
fided. "  Seaman  has  just  offered  Forsyth,  my  burly 
ruffian  in  the  blue  serge  suit,  a  hundred  pounds  to 
shoot  him  on  the  pretence  that  he  was  escaping." 

"  And  what  about  Schmidt.''  " 

"  Insisted  on  his  rights  as  an  officer  and  demanded 
the  front  seat  and  a  cigar  before  the  car  started! 
A  pretty  job,  Dominey,  and  neatly  cleaned  up." 

Dominey  was  watching  the  dust  from  the  two  cars 
which  were  disappearing  down  the  avenue. 

"  Tell  me,  Eddy,"  he  asked,  "  there's  one  thing  I 
have  always  been  curious  about.  How  did  you  man- 
age to  keep  that  fellow  Wolff  when  there  wasn't  a 
war  on,  and  he  wasn't  breaking  the  law.*^  " 

The  young  man  grinned. 


320       THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

"  We  had  to  stretch  a  point  there,  old  dear,"  he 
admitted.     "Plans  of  a  fortress,  eh?" 

"  Do  you  mean  to  say  that  he  had  plans  of  a 
fortress  upon  him?  "  Dominey  asked. 

"  Picture  post-card  of  Norwich  Castle,"  the  young 
man  confided,  "  but  keep  it  dark.  Can  I  have  a 
drink  before  I  get  the  little  car  going?  " 

The  turmoil  of  the  day  was  over,  and  Dominey, 
after  one  silent  but  passionate  outburst  of  thankful- 
ness at  the  passing  from  his  life  of  this  unnatural 
restraint,  found  all  his  thoughts  absorbed  by  the 
struggle  which  was  being  fought  out  in  the  bedcham- 
ber above.  The  old  doctor  came  down  and  joined 
him  at  dinner  time.  He  met  Dominey's  eager  glance 
with  a  little  nod. 

"  She's  doing  all  right,"  he  declared. 

"  No  fever  or  anything?  " 

"  Bless  you,  no !  She's  as  near  as  possible  in  per- 
fect health  physically.  A  different  woman  from 
what  she  was  this  time  last  year,  I  can  tell  you. 
When  she  wakes  up,  she'll  either  be  herself  again, 
without  a  single  illusion  of  any  sort,  or  — " 

The  doctor  paused,  sipped  his  wine,  emptied  his 
glass  and  set  it  down  approvingly. 

"  Or?  "  Dominey  persisted. 

*'  Or  that  part  of  her  brain  will  be  more  or  less 
permanently  affected.  However,  I  am  hoping  for  the 
best.     Thank  heavens  you're  on  the  spot !  " 

They  finished  their  dinner  almost  in  silence. 
Afterwards,  they  smoked  for  a  few  minutes  upon  the 
terrace.     Then  they  made  their  way  softly  upstairs. 


THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION       321 

The  doctor  parted  with  Dominey  at  the  door  of  the 
lattcr's  room. 

"  I  shall  remain  with  her  for  an  hour  or  so,"  he 
said.  "  After  that  I  shall  leave  her  entirely  to  her- 
self.    You'll  be  here  in  case  there's  a  change?  " 

"  I  shall  be  here,"  Dominey  promised. 

The  minutes  passed  into  hours,  uncounted,  unno- 
ticed. Dominey  sat  in  his  easy-chair,  stirred  by  a 
tumultuous  wave  of  passionate  emotion.  The  mem- 
ory of  those  earlier  da3's  of  his  return  came  back  to 
him  with  all  their  poignant  longings.  He  felt  again 
the  same  tearing  at  his  heart-strings,  the  same 
strange,  unnerving  tenderness.  The  great  world's 
drama,  in  which  he  knew  that  he,  too,  would  surely 
continue  to  play  his  part,  seemed  like  a  thing  far 
off,  the  concern  of  another  race  of  men.  Every 
fibre  of  his  being  seemed  attuned  to  the  magic  and 
the  music  of  one  wild  hope.  Yet  when  there  came 
what  he  had  listened  for  so  long,  the  hope  seemed 
frozen  into  fear.  He  sat  a  little  forward  in  his  easy- 
chair,  his  hands  gripping  its  sides,  his  eyes  fixed 
uj)on  the  slowly  widening  crack  in  the  panel.  It  was 
as  it  had  been  before.  She  stooped  low,  stood  up 
again  and  came  towards  him.  From  behind  an  un- 
seen hand  closed  the  panel.  She  came  to  him  with  her 
arms  outstretched  and  all  the  wonderful  things  of 
life  and  love  in  her  shining  ej^es.  That  faint  touch 
of  the  somnambulist  had  passed.  She  came  to  him 
as  she  had  never  come  before.  She  was  a  very  real 
and  a  very  live  woman. 

"  Everard !  "  she  cried. 


322        THE  GREAT  IMPERSONATION 

He  took  her  into  his  arms.  At  their  first  kiss  she 
thrilled  from  head  to  foot.  For  a  moment  she  laid 
her  head  upon  his  shoulder. 

"  Oh,  I  have  been  so  silly ! "  she  confessed. 
"  There  were  times  when  I  couldn't  believe  that  jou 
were  my  Everard  —  mine  !     And  now  I  know." 

Her  lips  sought  his  again,  his  parched  with  the 
desire  of  years.  Along  the  corridor,  the  old  doctor 
tiptoed  his  way  to  his  room,  with  a  pleased  smile  upon 
his  face. 


THE   END 


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UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 

Los  Alleles 
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